
Q^^^m:^^^'\Ji^t^ Su/^ 



-I . s ojrwj&i m, n 



GEMS 



FROM THE 



SACRED MINE: 

HOLY THOUGHTS UPON SACRED SUBJECTS. 

BY CLERGYMEN OF THE EPISCOPAL CHUECH. 
EDITED BY 

THOMAS WYATT, A.M. 



^ 



" The warrior ^'s name, 
Though peal'd and chim'd on all the tongues of fame. 
Sounds less harmonious to the grateful mind 
Than his who fashions and improves mankind." 



PHILADELPHIA: 

LIPPINCOTT, GEAMBO AND CO., 

SUCCESSORS TO GRIGG, ELLIOT & CO. 

14 NORTH FOURTH STREET. 

1851. 



^Vf7 



Entered according- to the Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by 

LIPPINCOTT, GHAMBO AND CO., 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of 

Pennsylvania. 



PHILADELrUlA : 
T. K. AND P. G. COLLINS, TKINTERS, 



PREFACE. 



The editor, in introducing this volume to the 
public, feels a righteous pride, which is founded 
alike upon the fact that his former efforts have 
been most generously appreciated, and upon the 
presumption that this, from its nature and circum- 
stances, cannot fail to receive the " right hand of 
fellowship" from the same source. The " Gems" 
here collected have been taken from that '' Sacred 
Mine" which is as wealthy as it is exhaustless. 
Sacred Poetry must be admitted to possess charms 
that never weary by repetition. Nor are its at- 
tractions superficial. It not only captivates the 
mind by its grace and beauty, but it has a tend- 
ency, by its own intrinsic excellency, to refine and 
exalt the affections. The mind judiciously culti- 
vated by poetry is like a garden filled with flow- 



IV PEEFACE. 

ers of the richest fragrance, shedding a sweet 
influence over the whole train of its ideas. 

The editor, therefore, congratulates himsG^f 
upon the matchless skill of the illustrious lapi- 
daries who have aided in its preparation, and re- 
peats the fervent prayer that these gems may 
shine like a lamp upon benighted hearts — may 
illumine the too dusky pathway of the faithful 
children of God — until they both are brought to 
the heaven of the righteous, to shine as stars upon 
the crown of the Eternal. 

T. W. 



CONTENTS, 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI ... . 

BY THE REV. DR. COLEMAN. 

THE SOUL IN PARADISE .... 

BY THE REV. DR. BUTLER. 

DEATH OF ANANIAS .... 

BY THE RIGHT REV. BISHOP HOPKINS. 

RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER 

BY THE REV. E. C. JONES. 

PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA 

BY THE REV. G. T. BEDELL. 

PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN 

BY THE REV. R. T. BROWN. 

THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST 

BY THE RIGHT REV. BISHOP POTTER. 

WHERE IS GOD .... 

BY GEORGE BETTNER. 

ELYMAS THE SORCERER .... 

BY THE RIGHT REV. BISHOP SMITH. 

THE JEWISH PILGRIM . . . . 

^ BY THE REV. J. C. m'cABE. 



pag:r 
13 



34 



37 



55 



61 



83 



103 



113 



123 



130 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN . . .141 

BY THE REV. J. C. m'CABE. 

EASTER SUNDAY 176 

BY THE REV. DR. BIJTLEE,. 

PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN . 178 

BY THE RIGHT REV. BISHOP JOHNS. 

THE TABLES OF THE LAW . . . .190 

BY THE REV. DR. V. D. JOHNS. 

BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON . . . .198 

BY THE REV. J. C. m'cABE. 

CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN . . .201 

BY THE REV. F. OGILBY. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 219 

BY THE REV. DR. BUTLER. 

WORLD, ADIEU 222 

BY THE REV. J. GOBLIN. 

THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT .... 224 

BY THE RIGHT REV. BISHOP DOANE. 

ELIJAH AND HIS ANGEL VISITANT . . . 226 

BY THE REV. EDWARD C. JONES. 

THE SEPULCHRE . . . . . .233 

BY ANSON G. CHESTER. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

ENGRAVED ON STEEL. 

SAMUEL BEFORE ELI . . , . .13 

PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAMF. MAN . 83 

THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST . . .103 

JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN . . . 141 

THE TABLES OF THE LAW . . . .190 

CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN . . .201 

THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT • . - .224 



GEMS 



SACRED MINE. 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 

BY THE REV. JOHN COLEMAN, D.D., RECTOR OF TRINITY CHURCH, 
SOUTHWARK, PHILADELPHIA. 

The sacred narratives of the Old Testament, 
though related in such simplicity of style and 
unaffected manner of writing, are yet as absorb- 
ing in interest as the most colored and glowing 
romance. In perusing them, we are often led into 
com.mon and private life, and called to observe 
individuals who made no splendid figure in the 
eyes of mankind. Cotemporaneous with them 
were kings and heroes, who are now forgotten; 
whose names, whose places of abode, whose con- 
2 



14 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

nections, whose "wealth., and whose exploits have 
all long since perished from the earth ; while Holy 
Scripture has faithfully transmitted down to our 
own timeSj with peculiar marks of honor and re- 
gard, many once humble and obscure families, who 
'Sshall be had in everlasting remembrance." 

Such a happy and distinguished family was that 
of the righteous Elkanah and Hannah, the parents 
of the child Samuel — who subsequently became 
the first and most eminent prophet that the Lord 
raised up to his people after Moses. This holy 
couple dwelt in Ramah, a city belonging to the 
tribe of Ephraim, during the forty years adminis- 
tration of Eli the high-priest; in whose hands 
both the civil and ecclesiastical government of 
Israel seems to have been, B. C. 1182-1142, 
as ascertained by the research of Josephus ; who 
tells us that Eli was fifty-eight years of age 
when he began his administration, and that it 
was in the thirty-first year of it Samuel received 
his prophetic call, being then twelve years old. 

The characters of Elkanah and Hannah well 
deserve a place in the sacred writings, for the 
sake of the many excellent instructions which 
they afford. Like Zacharias and Elizabeth, 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 15 

"ihej were both righteous before God, walkmg 
in all the commandments and ordinances of the 
Lord blameless.'*' They had dedicated their 
tabernacle to God ; they regularly offered there 
the morning and evening sacrifice of prayer 
and praise ; and their noble examples of piety 
are particularly calculated to teach parents, 
especially mothers, to " bring up their children 
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord/' and 
to devote them early to His service and glory. 
To a family, a good mother, no less than a good 
father, is an invaluable blessing ; though she 
moves less publicly and visibly, who can esti- 
mate the silent and hidden influence which she 
exerts in moulding the characters, and deciding 
the future and eternal destinies of her child- 
ren ? The father can do much, by precept 
and example — very much more than most 
fathers, it is to be feared, are doing — in 
the religious culture and training of their 
children; but the mother can begin the earli- 
est, and do by far the most. To whom did 
the early Christian church owe a Timothy? 
" From a child he had known the Holy Scrip- 
tures, which are able to make us wise unto sal- 



16 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

vation ;" and the apostle lays open the secret^ 
^'when/' says he, "I call to remembrance the 
unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt 
first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother 
Eunice." And to whom, under God, did the 
ancient Jewish church owe a Samuel? To the 
happy influences of a wise and pious Hannah. 

The circumstances connected with the birth 
and early life of this illustrious prophet, priest, 
and governor of Israel, are of a peculiarly in- 
teresting nature. His birth was in answer to 
prayer ; he was sanctified from the womb ; and 
solemnly dedicated to the service of the sanc- 
tuary as soon as he was weaned. Elkanah, his 
father, as the custom of those early times was, 
had two wives ; whose names were Hannah and 
Peninnah. ^' The former," says Bishop Patrick, 
^' seems to have been his first wife; and, on her 
proving barren, his earnest desire to have child- 
ren moved him to take another, as Abraham had 
done by Sarah's consent. This practice was not 
in those times disallowed by God, who saith Him- 
self that he had given to David many wives 
(2 Sam. xii. 8) ; which shows that it was not then 
a sin to have more than one." Thrice every 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 17 

year, Elkanah, according to the law, was accus- 
tomed to go to Shiloh, where Eli presided as 
high-priest, there to offer up his usual sacrifice ; 
and as he was a pious and religious man, he 
generally took his two wives with him ; that 
they, in like manner, might make their oblations. 
The precept was, '' three times in the year all thy 
males shall appear before the Lord God" (Exod. 
xxiii. 17); which were at the feasts of the Pass- 
over, of Pentecost, and of Tabernacles : but 
women were exempted from this attendance, and 
therefore it was an extraordinary act of piety for 
Elkanah to take his two wives with him. 

Now Hannah, though she had no children, was 
his favorite wife ; but not all his kindness and 
love could reconcile her to what, among 
Jewish women, was considered so great a re- 
proach ; while her grief was daily augmented 
by the provoking behavior of her rival. Having 
gone to the usual sacrificial feast at Shiloh, 
Hannah availed herself of an opportunity to 
"pour out her soul" before God at the taber- 
nacle ; beseeching the removal of her reproach 
by the bestowal of a son ; and making a solemn 
vow that if her petition was granted, she would 



18 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

^'give him unto the Lord all the days of his life," 
by dedicating him to the service of the sanc- 
tuary. Her prayer was heard; and its accept- 
ance was in due time confirmed by the birth of a 
child, whom her piety and her gratitude con- 
curred to name Samuel ; that is, as the word 
imports, "asked of God." As soon as he was 
weaned — ^it is thought when he was three or four 
years old — Hannah again went up with her hus- 
band to worship the Lord at Shiloh, and to ofi*er 
the annual sacrifice ; taking the infant Samuel 
with her. 

Here we behold one of those remarkable tran- 
sitions which often take place in human life ; and 
may compare it with another, and very difiterent 
afi'ecting change, which once befell a pious woman 
of the Scriptures. When Naomi returned, with 
her daughter-in-law Ruth, from the country of 
Moab, to which she had been driven by famine, 
and had reached her native village, the people 
of Bethlehem came around her, saying, " Is this 
Naomi ?" And she said, " Call me not Naomi," 
thdit is, pleasant; but, "call me Mara," that is, 
bitter; "for the Almighty hath dealt very bit- 
terly with me." Once she had substance — now 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 19 

she was poor ; once she had a husband — now she 
was a widow ; once she was a happy mother — now 
she was bereaved and childless. " I went out 
full, and the Lord hath brought me home again 
empty; why then call ye me Naomi, seeing the 
Lord hath testified against me, and the Almighty 
hath afflicted me?" But what a difference is 
there between HannaTis former and present cir- 
cumstances and experience ! between her condi- 
tion when, filled with grief, she presented herself 
at the tabernacle before Eli in the bitterness of 
her soul, and now that she again comes, with 
her triumphant song of thankfulness and praise ! 
Then she was a weeping petitioner — now she 
returns with rejoicing ; then she sowed in tears 
— now she reaps in joy ; then she was a woman 
of sorrows, her trials not a little aggravated by 
the uncharitable surmises of Eli himself — now 
she has " the oil of joy given her for mourning, 
the garment of praise for the spirit of heavi- 
ness." Who can fail to see in this the efficacy 
and value of prayer? Hannah had found it 
'' good to draw near to God ;" she is not the first 
or the last witness to the apostolic assurance 
that '' the effectual fervent prayer of the right- 



20 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

eous availeth much ;" and hence her pious ac- 
knowledgment, '^ For this child I prayed ; and 
the Lord hath given me my petition which I 
asked of him." 

Having come into the house of the Lord, she 
brought the child to Eli ; telling him that as she 
had received him from the Lord, in answer to 
prayer, so she now returned him to the Lord ; 
and intended to devote him all his life to the 
service of the tabernacle. The Levites were not 
bou.nd thus to serve till they were twenty-five 
years old, nor after they were fifty ; but Hannah 
had dedicated her future son to the ministry 
from his childhood, as long as he lived ; from his 
earliest youth till the day of his death. It must 
have been an exercise of great self-denial in this 
holy matron thus to resign so dear a child for 
ever. But it was the condition of her prayer ; 
and therefore only the fulfilment of her solemn 
vow, an act of fidelity to religious engagement, 
when she brought the young Samuel to Shiloh, 
and consecrated him to the perpetual service of 
the Lord. And was she a loser by this sacri- 
fice ? Did he cease to be hers, because he was 
the Lord's ? No ; she would only feel a new and 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 21 

peculiar interest in him, in consequence of hi& 
relation to the sanctuary. There she knew the 
little Levite would be safe and happy ; and grow 
up to be the future light of Israel, the great 
prophet of the church, and the distinguished 
ruler and judge of his country. Nor was she 
altogether deprived of communion with him ; for 
" his mother made him a little coat, and brought 
it to him from year to year, when she came up 
with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice.'' 
Was she a loser by this surrender ? No ; for 
she afterwards had three more sons, and two 
daughters ; so that for one child given, or rather 
lent to the Lord, we behold five added ! 

In all this, Hannah has left an instructive 
example to many, who are very ready to pray 
and cry to God for help in distress and affliction ; 
but, when their prayers are answered, and the 
danger is over, forget to '^ pay the vows which 
their lips had uttered, and their mouth had 
spoken, when they were in trouble." It was not 
so, however, with the mother of Samuel ; as the 
Lord had remembered her, so she remembered 
the Lord, and was faithful to the promise she 
had made. The retufn which mankind, in 



22 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE. 

general, make to God for his mercies, is to 
idolize tlie gift and forget the Giver ; but the 
truly pious value the gift only in proportion to 
its real worth, and rise in heavenly contempla- 
tions to the great Donor himself. Thus it was 
with Hannah, as she offered her grateful ac- 
knowledgments in that sacred hymn of praise 
and thanksgiving (1 Sam. ii. 1-10), to the com- 
position of which her soul was raised by divine 
inspiration. In her devout meditations upon the 
extraordinary mercy vouchsafed to herself, she 
takes occasion from it to adore the goodness of 
God as manifested towards the whole creation ; 
and if it be asked, as it may be by a superficial 
reader of it, what this sublime song of praise had 
to do with the particular occasion of Hannah's 
thanksgiving — we answer, that it is this very 
thing which in a great degree constitutes its 
beauty. A single mercy, like a stream, leads 
her soul to the great fountain-head ; and from it 
she contemplates the fulness that is treasured up 
there, and which is diffusing all possible bless- 
ings, temporal and spiritual, throughout the 
world. 

Some length of time after this, when Samuel 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 23 

was about twelve years old, his extraordinary 
character began to be developed in a commis- 
sion which he received immediately from 
heaven, to denounce the divine displeasure 
against Eli for his criminal remissness with re- 
gard to his two sons, Hophni and Phinehas; 
whose libertine baseness and covetous practices, 
though properly reproved, he had not at all re- 
strained by parental authority. In those days, 
God often spake to his servants, the prophets, in 
dreams and visions ; and one night, after Samuel 
had retired to rest in his little room, adjoining 
that of Eli, the Lord called him by name, in 
an audible voice — ''Samuel!'' He naturally 
thought it was Eli; who, as he was very aged 
and infirm, no doubt often disturbed him in the 
night to wait upon him ; and he immediately ran 
into his chamber to know what was wanted. But 
when told that he had not called him, he con- 
cluded that he had been mistaken, and returned 
to his bed. In a little while the voice came again 
— " Samuel!''' and he arose, and went the second 
time to Eli, saying, " Here am I ; for thou didst 
call me." But the old man answered, '^I called 
not, my son; lie down again." He did so, and 



24 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE. 

the third time the Lord called him — ^' Samuel!'^ 
He still thought the voice was that of Eli, and 
once more went to him. Then it was " Eli per- 
ceived that the Lord had called the child;" and 
he told him to go and lie down, and if the voice 
came again, to say, "- Speak, Lord ; for thy servant 
heareth." Accordingly, ^'Samuel went and lay 
down in his place ; and the Lord came, and stood, 
and called as at other times, Samuel! Samuel!'' 

The Almighty then proceeded to reveal to him 
the fearful judgments which He was about to bring 
upon Eli and his family. The tidings were, indeed, 
of a most dreadful nature — sufficient to make " the 
ears of every one in Israel, that heard them, to 
tingle ;" and to deliver them must have been a dis- 
tressing office to Samuel, who was of a tender dis- 
position, and had an affectionate and reverential 
regard for the high-priest ; while we may be sure 
that in turn Eli loved Samuel, and treated the 
young Levite as a son that served with a father. 
But though he at first " feared to show Eli the 
vision," and even when interrogated by him was 
far from being hasty to denounce the judgments 
which he was commissioned to declare, yet when 
solemnly called upon to disclose the whole, he 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 25 

would not dissemble nor conceal anything ; and, 
painful as it was, '^ Samuel told him every whit, 
and hid nothing from him." 

This is the interesting moment in the sacred 
history which the artist has selected as the subject 
of the accompanying plate. The venerable Eli, 
arrayed in his rich pontificial vestments, is seen 
listening with awe to the divine communication 
which is being made by the fair youth who stands 
beside him. 

Eli being greatly advanced in years, the admi- 
nistration of the priestly office had devolved upon 
his two sons, Hophni and Phinehas ; who were 
transgressors of no common stamp, and are justly 
reprobated as '' sons of Belial." They had abused 
their sacred office to the purposes of oppression 
and debauchery; and Eli, as God's vicegerent, 
was bound to interpose, not only with parental, 
but judicial authority. He forbore, however, to 
inflict the punishment which they deserved; he 
neglected to exert the authority with which he 
had been divinely invested, and contented himself 
with expostulations and reproofs. This was Eli's 
fault, and the occasion of God's heavy displeasure 
against him; from which we may see what He 



26 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

requires of us all — to have a supreme regard for 
His glory, and to endeavor to promote it to the 
utmost of our power. His honor ought to be 
dear to every one of us. It should, of course, be 
our first care and labor to exemplify religion in 
our own conduct, and to show all possible respect 
to everything that relates to God — to his Word, 
his Sabbath, his Name, his Gospel, his Sacra- 
ments, his cause and interest in the world. But, 
not content with honoring Him in our own persons, 
we must exert all our influence that He may be 
honored also by those around us ; for our 
influence is as much a talent as our time, or 
money, or anything else. Some are invested 
with magisterial power ; and they must use it for 
God, and not bear the sword in vain. To some is 
committed the ministry of the Gospel ; and they 
must boldly reprove sin of every kind, and com- 
mend themselves to every man's conscience in the 
sight of God. To others is parental authority 
intrusted ; and they must not think it enough to 
rebuke gently the wickedness of their children ; 
but when mild reproofs fail to reclaim them, it 
will be their duty to proceed to severer measures. 
Doubtless the history of Eli has been fully set 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 27 

forth in Scripture as a warning to parents, and 
in order to teach them that if they govern those 
committed to their charge with the same partial 
affections that he did, they will bring ruin on those 
whom they so foolishly indulge. Eli and his chil- 
dren might have gone to the grave in peace, and 
in favor with God, if he had brought them up 
under proper discipline ; but by neglecting this, 
he was sadly answerable for their conduct and 
their sufferings, and was sorely punished by the 
revelation of that tragical sentence which he lived 
to see executed upon himself and them. The 
wickedness of these young men was owing, not to 
want of religious instruction, but of seasonable 
restraints and necessary correction; too great 
lenity and indulgence had defeated all the benefit 
of a pious education. Let parents called Chris- 
tian take for an example Abraham, whose great 
glory it was, next to his being called '^ the friend 
of God," that he was faithful as the father and 
governor of his family. So honorable is this to 
parents, and so pleasing to God, that He would 
not pass it by in the patriarch without special 
mention of it to his everlasting commendation ; 
" I know him/' He says, " that he will command 



28 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

his children and his household after him, and they 
shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and 
judgment; that the Lord may bring upon 
Abraham that which he hath spoken of him." 
(Gen. xviii. 19.) The same fidelity we see in the 
good old Joshua, who, in the presence of all 
Israel, was not ashamed to say, '^ As for me, and 
my house, we will serve the Lord." Thus should 
all parents and masters of families resolve to in- 
struct, reprove, admonish, and encourage those 
whom God has committed to their care. If 
faithful to the solemn trust — a trust for which 
they will one day be called to give a strict ac- 
count — they will use the peculiar authority and 
influence which has been given to them, and em- 
ploy all proper means to render the families they 
govern truly religious. 

We have seen that Eli had many failings ; but 
his behavior on the occasion of hearing the 
divine judgments denounced against him does 
him honor. Samuel had feared to show him the 
vision ; but though Eli foreboded that it was against 
him, he adjured the child to " hide nothing" from 
him. This was well ; but it was better still, when, 
having heard all, he exclaimed, ''It is the Lord; 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 29 

let him do what seemeth him good.'* The state 
of his mind at this time did not exclude sensi- 
bility ; a man of his tenderness must have felt, as 
he ought to have felt ; and he could have exer- 
cised no resignation without feeling. He knew 
that he had sinned against the Lord, and well 
deserved the threatened judgments ; he therefore 
humbles himself under the mighty hand of God, 
without murmuring or complaining. He does not 
accuse Him of injustice or severity ; but meekly 
accepts the dispensation, and submits to the 
divine decree. His answer was truly humble ; 
and never does humility appear more sincere than 
when it disposes us, with an unreserved submission 
and perfect resignation, to accept whatever God 
is pleased to inflict upon us for our sins. ^"^If 
Eli was a bad father to his sons," says Bishop 
Hall, " yet he is a good son to God, and is ready 
to kiss the very rod with which he was to smart. 
' It is the Lord,' he says, ' whom I have ever found 
holy, just, and gracious ; and He cannot but be 
Himself: let Him do what seemeth Him good;' 
for whatsoever seemeth good to Him, cannot but 
be good, however it seems to me." Eli, had, in- 
deed, grievously offended God ; yet the meek sub- 
3 



30 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

mission lie expresses to tlie divine sentence pro- 
nounced against himself and his family, and the 
testimony which he afterwards gave of his much 
greater concern for the taking of God's ark than 
for the death of the very sons whom he had so 
much indulged, makes it probable that, though a 
weak man, he was truly humble and pious. 

Years passed away — and the time for the exe- 
cution of the threatened judgments upon Eli and 
his house drew nigh. The appearance of a 
prophet like Samuel in this period of suspended 
revelations, when "there was no open vision," 
awakening in the bosoms of the desponding 
Israelites the liveliest anticipations — they imme- 
diately adopted measures to disenthral themselves 
from the Philistine subjugation under which they 
were then suffering. But in their first action, 
they were defeated, with a great loss, of about 
four thousand men. The elders of Israel, aston- 
ished at such an event, devised an expedient for 
securing, as they hoped, a successful issue to the 
contest. They sent to Shiloh for the ark of 
God, to the absence of which they imputed their 
late disaster ; and it Avas brought into the camp 
with great solemnity by Hoplini and Phinehas. 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 31 

Eli, at the advanced age of ninety-eight, being 
informed of the measure which had been adopted, 
was full of anxiety ; for he could not but anti- 
cipate in his mind the evils that were at hand. 
Nor were his forebodings without cause. The 
Israelites were again defeated ; no less than thirty 
thousand of them perished ; the sons of Eli, the 
priests who bore the ark, were slain ; and the ark 
itself was taken. This ill news a soldier of the 
tribe of Benjamin, escaping from the field of 
battle, brought to Shiloh that very day ; with the 
usual emblems of extreme sorrow — his clothes 
rent, and earth upon his head ; and it occasioned 
no small outcry and lamentation in the city. 
Anxious to hear the result of the conflict between 
the two armies, ^'Eli sat upon a seat by the way- 
side, watching ; for his heart trembled for the ark 
of God;" and, inquiring the cause of the noise 
and tumult, he had the soldier brought before 
him ; who told him that the Israelites were routed, 
his two sons slain, and the ark taken. Eli heard 
of the defeat of the army and the death of 
his sons, though with sorrow, yet with great 
fortitude and patience ; but when he came 
to understand that the ark of the Lord had fallen 



32 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

into the hands of the enemy, it was more than he 
could bear. The heart of the aged priest was 
broken; no sword of the Philistines could have 
pierced him so painfully; and, suddenly falling 
backward from his seat, ''his neck brake, and he 
died." 

Thus Eli showed his supreme regard for God ; 
to which, in some sense, he died a martyr. He 
manifested in his death that a concern for it was 
more deeply rooted in his mind that any other 
consideration, whether of public interest or of the 
ties of consanguinity; and therefore, whatever 
may have been his errors in life, we cannot but 
rejoice at his showing in the closing scene that he 
had obtained mercy of the Lord. Had we not 
been informed of the manner of his death, we 
might have painfully doubted how far the divine 
judgments upon him extended to the eternal 
world ; but with this knowledge of his latter end, 
we can have no doubt of his acceptance with God, 
and his exaltation to the realms of bliss. 

To my young readers, especially, would I address 
myself in conclusion. And I can have no better 
wish for each and every one of them than that 
they may resemble the youthful Samuel; and, 



SAMUEL BEFORE ELI. 33 

as they grow in age, may also grow in grace. Of 
him it is said, that " the child Samuel grew on, 
and was in favor both with the Lord, and also 
with men;" and let the children of all Christian 
parents remember that they, too, in holy baptism, 
have been solemnly dedicated to the service of the 
Lord from their very infancy. He now calls them, 
as he once did Samuel, though not exactly in the 
same way ; and His promise is, ^^ I love them that 
love me, and those that seek me early shall find 
me." He calls them by his Holy Spirit, whose 
^^ still small voice," though it does not speak 
audibly, is not the less really within them ; and is 
always ready to teach and to guide them in the 
good and the right way, if they will but hearken 
to it, and obey it. 

Would that we had more such fathers and 
mothers as Elkanah and Hannah ! Would that 
there were more such children as this good little 
Samuel ! Happy the parents of such children as 
these ! Happy the children whose earliest years 
are thus devoted to the Lord ! 



34 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



THE SOUL IN PARADISE, 

BY THE REY. C. M. BUTLER, D.D. 

Mysterious place^ where spirits wait 

Their pure and perfect bliss. 
Catching some joy from life to come, 

Freed from the pains of this ! 
Moved not thy shadowy realm to hail 

The Lord of life and death. 
Who, ere he rose supreme o'er all. 

Descended first beneath ? 

There did he, mid the hosts of God, 

A sweet communion hold. 
And cheer them by his coming, long 

By prophesy foretold. 
Did they not feel when thou wert there 

'Twas bliss enough to be — 
Without high heaven's consummate joy — 

For ever. Lord, with thee ? 



THE SOUL IN PARADISE. 35 

Mysterious realm ! canst thou not send 

Some blessed spirit back 
To cheer us, as we onward wend 

Along life's weary track ? 
Our friends — are they all there and blest ? 

And " do they love us still ?" 
And do they hover round our path, 

Knowing our good and ill ? 

Oh tell us ! Is it but a dream, 

When in the silent night 
They come and bless us, and appear 

So beautiful and bright ? 
The halo'd form, the loving eye. 

That the deep spirit warms. 
Are they from thee — or but the shapes 

Desiring fancy forms ? 

No voice replies ! Enough to know 

That there all spirits rest ; 
The lost to be more wretched still, 

The happy still more blest ! 
Enough to know that when the soul 

Shakes off its cumbering clod, 
It enters heaven's near ante-room, 

And there awaits its God. 



36 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE, 

And though with fading, dying flowers 

The fragrance too be past. 
Though when the harp-strings shattered are 

The music breathes its last, 
Yet when the body blends with earth, 

'Tis it alone that dies ; 
The freed soul hastens to its home 

With Christ in Paradise !* 

^ Paradise is the name which our Saviour applied to 
the place of happy departed spirits when he said to the 
penitent thief—*' This day shalt thou be with me in Para- 
dise.'^ 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 37 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 

BY THE RIGHT REV. J. H. HOPKINS, BISHOP OF TERMONT. 

In order to understand the proper character of 
the sin which drew down upon the guilty Ananias 
the sudden infliction of the divine judgment, so 
admirably depicted by the pencil of Eafi"ael5 it is 
necessary to attend to the peculiar state of the 
first Christian church under the apostles, at Jeru- 
salem, as it is set forth in the fourth chapter of 
the Acts, V. 82, in these words: ^^And the 
multitude of them that believed were of one 
heart, and of one soul: neither said any of them 
that aught of the things which he possessed was 
his own ; but they had all things common. And 
with great power gave the apostles witness of the 
resurrection of the Lord Jesus : and great grace 
was upon them all. Neither was there any 
among them that lacked ; for as many as were 



38 GEMS PROM THE SACRED MINE. 

possessors of lands or houses sold them, and 
brought the prices of the things that were sold, 
and laid them down at the apostles' feet, and dis- 
tribution was made unto every man according as 
he had need." 

We have here described, with the utmost 
simplicity and brevity, one of the marvelous 
results of the effusion of the Holy Spirit on the 
day of Pentecost, perhaps exceeding, in its 
influence and power, even the gifts of tongues 
and miracles. Brotherly love, flowing from the 
fountain of divine grace, conquered the selfish- 
ness of human nature so absolutely, that amongst 
these thousands of believers there seemed to be 
but "one heart and one soul;" for each loved the 
other as himself, and was ready to give up his 
property, as the spontaneous offering of love, for 
the benefit of the whole, accounting it a privilege 
to sacrifice all his worldly rights for the service 
of the church of Christ, and desiring to retain 
nothing to himself which he could not enjoy in 
communion with his brethren. 

It may be well to consider this remarkable 
feature of the first Christian church, so as to 
apprehend aright the difference between it, and 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 39 

all subsequent attempts at imitation. For the 
principle of living in a community, where no 
member should possess any individual property, 
but all should share alike from the general stock, 
has been adopted in a variety of forms. Within 
the church, it has assumed the system of mo- 
nastic fraternities. Without the church, it appears 
in the specious shapes of Fourrierism, communism, 
agrarianism, or socialism; while, in a mingled 
character, partly religious, partly fanatical, and 
partly sordid, it may be found in the Shakers, 
the Rappites, the Mormons, and many others. 
But it will be seen, on a very slight examination, 
that none of these present a single point of real 
conformity to the example before us. 

For, in the first place, this peculiarity of the 
apostolic church was perfectly spontaneous and 
voluntary. It was not the result of any constitu- 
tion, rule, or law. It was not demanded as a 
matter of obligation. It was not set forth as a 
precept of the Gospel. Nay, it does not seem to 
have been recommended by any of the apostles, 
even as a scheme of expediency. In contradis- 
tinction from all this, it appears as the simple 
expression of intense feeling — the warm gushing 



40 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

forth of admiration and delight at the wondrous 
discovery of the character of Christ, the marvel- 
ous outpouring of his Spirit, the privileges of 
his church, and the celestial happiness of his 
people, which, for a time, lifted them up into the 
frame of angelic love, and looked with utter 
indifference on every right of earthly appropria- 
tion. It was not designed to last. In the nature 
of things it could not last, because it was not 
consistent with the steadfast and unavoidable 
relations of humanity. And therefore, when the 
first fervor of their new change subsided, it died 
silently away. 

In the second place, and as a proper conse- 
quence from the first, there was nothing in the 
apostolic church which bears the slightest resem- 
blance to the monastic and conventual system: 
no vows of poverty, continence, or obedience 
to a superior — no renunciation of marriage — no 
abandonment of domestic and parental duties — 
no separation of the sexes — no iron rules of 
gloomy asceticism — no machinery of formal devo- 
tion dividing the twenty-four hours of each day 
and night into seven fixed periods of prayer and 
psalmody — no affected garb of extraordinary 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 41 

humility — no abjuration of the lawful business of 
the world — no self-banishment into caves or 
deserts, nor banding together into cells, in order 
to exclude the allowed commerce with mankind 
in ordinary intercourse — no unnatural routine of 
established fasts and vigils, surpassing the inven- 
tions of the Pharisees, and in directly reproaching 
the goodness of God by refusing to use the 
blessings which his Providence offers to his 
people. All this came upon the church some 
centuries afterwards ; and along with it came the 
frightful train of false sanctity, ignorance, super- 
stition, and ecclesiastical despotism. But not a 
trace of such a system can be found in the 
example of Christ or his apostles, nor in the 
practice of the true mother church of Jerusalem. 
But if we thus fail to discover any conformity 
between monasticism and apostolic Christianity, 
still less, if possible, can we find a single mark of 
resemblance to the philosophy of the communist 
or socialist, which so often takes its name in vain. 
Por the Gospel makes no assault upon the tem- 
poral arrangement of society. It seeks not to 
.build up the system of spiritual virtue, by break- 
ing down the established rules of law and order. 



42 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

It contemplates no sucli absurdity as the making 
all men equal in worldly property, so long as they 
are necessarily unequal in everything else. It 
addresses itself to the heart and the intellect, for 
the sake of an immortal and eternal destiny, and 
leaves the calculations of earthly profit and loss 
to the ordinary wants of human nature ; promis- 
ing to its disciples no specific proportion of wealth 
or ease in this life, but assuring them, neverthe- 
less, that if they seek first the kingdom of God 
and his righteousness, all things really necessary 
for the body shall be added unto them. Nor can 
anything be more glaringly contrary to the self- 
sacrificing love of the first Church of Christ than 
the unceasing comparisons of personal and secular 
interest which usually form the staple argument 
of Fourrierite philanthropy. 

We deny not, however, that there is much to 
be found in the speculations of these philosophers 
which is well adapted to occupy the thoughts and 
engage the feelings of all who honor practical 
benevolence. And we cheerfully acknowledge 
that the results of their speculations, so far as 
they are either attainable or desirable, would be 
found in close connection with the prevalence of 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 43 

genuine Christianity. The difference iSj that 
religion begins with the inward subjugation of 
the soul to the truth and majesty of God, while 
socialism relies entirely on the amelioration of 
outward circumstances, in connection with the 
knowledge which concerns this world alone. But 
no possible arrangement of these can reach the 
real source of human wretchedness. Sin, the 
product of moral obliquity, is the actual fountain 
of all our misery. And therefore nothing can 
reach the evil which does not purify the heart. 
Pride, envy, anger, malice, revenge, cruelty, 
licentiousness, adultery, and murder are seen 
more frequently, according to their numerical 
proportion, among those whom the world esteems 
well-born, well-educated, and in easy circum- 
stances, than amongst the laboring poor. These 
are the moral plagues which desolate humanity; 
and it is only possible for that religion which 
brings to our aid the spiritual power of God, to 
elevate the circumstances of mankind, by first 
ennobling their nature. 

But we may not now enlarge on these topics, 
which are aside from our main design. Let us 
rather recur to the state of the Church in Jeru- 



44 GEMS PROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Salem, during that remarkable though transient 
period, when "they had all things common," and 
when it was a frequent proof of their brotherly 
love to sell their property and houses, and bring 
the product to their spiritual rulers, in order that 
" distribution should be made to every man, 
according as he had need." A special instance 
of this unbounded charity is recorded in the case 
of Joses, "who by the apostles was surnamed 
Barnabas (that is, being interpreted, the Son of 
Consolation)," for this man, "having land, sold it, 
and brought the money, and laid it at the 
apostles' feet." Trom the fact that this is the 
only example thus distinguished, and that the 
apostles gave to Joses the surname of the Son of 
Consolation, we may infer that the case was some- 
what extraordinary, either in the amount of the 
gift, or in the affectionate devotion of the giver ; 
and doubtless his zeal was met by the general 
voice of praise and benediction. 

Excited, most probably, by a feeling of envious 
emulation, "a certain man, named Ananias, with 
Sapphira his wife, sold a possession, and kept 
back part of the price, his wife also being privy 
to it, and brought a certain part, and laid it at 



THE DEATH OP ANANIAS. 45 

the apostles' feet. But Peter said, Ananias, why 
hath Satan filled thy heart to lie to the Holy 
Ghost, and to keep back part of the price of the 
land ? While it remained, was it not thine own ? 
and after it was sold, was it not in thine own 
power ? Why hast thou conceived this thing in 
thine heart ? Thou hast not lied unto men, but 
unto God. And Ananias hearing these words, fell 
down, and gave up the ghost. And great fear 
came on all them that heard these things. And the 
young men arose, wound him up, and carried him 
out, and buried him. And it was about the space 
of three hours after, when his wife, not knowing 
what was done, came in. And Peter answered 
unto her. Tell me whether ye sold the land for 
so much? And she said. Yea, for so much. 
Then Peter said unto her. How is it that ye 
have agreed together to tempt the Spirit of the 
Lord? Behold, the feet of them which have 
buried thy husband are at the door, and shall 
carry thee out. Then fell she down straightway 
at his feet and yielded up the ghost. And the 
young men came in, and found her dead, and 
carrying her forth, buried her by her husband. 
4 



46 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE. 

And great fear came upon all the churchy and upon 
as many as heard these things." (Acts v. 2-11.) 
The crime of these unhappy wretches, thus 
signally punished by the hand of God, was a 
compound of envy, pride, hypocrisy, covetousness, 
and falsehood. Their envy was directed towards 
the pious Barnabas, who, with many others, had 
obtained an honorable distinction by his acts of 
affectionate liberality, while he was only con- 
scious of obeying the spontaneous impulse of love 
to Christ and to his brethren. Their pride was 
excited to display an equal measure of zeal, in 
order that they might enjoy an equal portion of 
applause and importance. Their hypocrisy 
scrupled not at the baseness of pretending to a 
sanctity and devotion which they had by no 
means attained, nor at the fraud of wearing an 
outward garb of superior holiness which they 
knew did not belong to them. Their covetous- 
ness was indulged in keeping back part of the 
price of the very land which they were boasting 
of having only sold for the relief of the poor. 
And their falsehood was nothing short of a sacri- 
legious perjury, because it was directed towards 
the Almighty, addressed to His apostles in the 



THE DEATH OF ANANIxiS. 47 

presence of the churchj and deliberately settled, 
beforehand, with all the care of artful prepara- 
tion, for the very purpose of inducing an erro- 
neous judgment in their own favor, and of secur- 
ing a position and a character for piety which 
they could not justly claim. 

And yet there can be no doubt that the mise- 
rable Ananias had persuaded himself and his 
deluded partner to regard the whole in the light 
of commendable prudence and discretion. They 
had united with the church, in the first flush of 
the excitement produced by the miraculous dis- 
play of the day of Pentecost, without any true 
faith, or any spiritual conversion. But they 
beheld with admiration the astonishing works of 
the apostles, and the growing influence of the 
Gospel ; and felt a certain pride and satisfaction 
in belonging to the people of God, and in sharing 
their extraordinary privileges. In a little time, 
they saw how many of their brethren exhibited 
their zeal in selling all that they had to supply 
the wants of the poorer disciples, and how their 
names and persons were held in honor for their 
devout liberality. And the question naturally 
arose, Why should not they do as much as others ? 



48 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

They too had property, and felt conscious that 
the same sacrifice ought to be expected at their 
hands. True, there was no compulsion in the 
case. No law, rule, or even recommendation 
had been heard from the apostles upon the sub- 
ject, and therefore they were perfectly free to 
withhold any such offering if they thought proper. 
But their self-respect was concerned in keeping 
up to the highest standard of outward profession ; 
and whj should they be compelled to hear the 
praises of Barnabas and the rest, without striving 
to equal them ? The main difficulty was to 
secure the object without paying too dearly for it. 
Their property Ayas worth far more than they 
were willing to relinquish, and yet, if they refused 
to surrender the whole, they could not hope to 
stand so well in the estimation of the apostles 
and their brethren. To accomplish this desirable 
result, therefore, and still retain the better part 
of their possessions, why should they not agree 
to a lie ? For surely it was an innocent lie ; it 
injured no one ; it could do no harm. They 
would still be giving to the church as much as 
they could spare, and, if the apostles supposed 
that it was their all, what did it signify? The 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 49 

error would only increase their own respectability, 
and confer upon them a standing equal with the 
rest ; and, as no one would lose by the praise 
bestowed on them, where was the transgression? 

Alas ! it is thus that sinners argue, when they 
would evade the laws of God, and find excuses 
for the indulgence of their evil passions. And it 
must have been by some such process that An- 
anias closed his eyes against the light, and 
turned away from the true aspect of the question. 
But yet it seems strange that sophistry like this 
should have satisfied him, for how could he fail 
to see that the ofiering which he designed to 
make was wholly of a religious character ? since 
no man could consistently sacrifice his private 
property for the sake of the church unless he 
were animated by the motives of a true faith — 
love to Christ and to his people. How could he 
lose sight of the fact that the church was the 
body of Christ, governed and sanctified by His 
spirit? How could he imagine that he might 
deceive the apostles, without a direct insult to 
the majesty of their Divine Master ? How could 
he think of purchasing the praise of his brethren 
by a falsehood which must expose him to the 



50 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

condemnation of their Lord ? How could he forget 
that nothing is so odious to the God of Truth as 
the mask of hypocrisy ? and that, even if he should 
succeed in his imposition for a little whilcj his 
transient credit must soon be converted into con- 
fusion of face before the judgment-seat of the 
Eedeemer ? How could he fail to perceive that 
a course which would be despised as mean and 
contemptible, even amongst men of the world, 
must be utterly sacrilegious and profane when it 
polluted the sanctuary, and contemned the omni- 
science of the Almighty, and trampled upon the 
holiness of the everlasting Gospel ? 

It needs no revelation to convince us that the 
self-deluded wretch had never learned the mean- 
ing of repentance, or faith, or spiritual obedience ; 
that he knew not what it was to watch and pray 
against temptation ; that his heart had under- 
gone no real change, and had never submitted 
itself to the pure and celestial influence of the 
Saviour ; that it was still a slave to all its inward 
depravity, in the gall of bitterness and in the 
bond of iniquity. And yet the miserable man 
had dared to profess repentance and faith. He 
had dared to take upon his soul the solemn cove- 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 51 

nant of baptism- He had promised to renounce 
the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and 
glor J of the world, and all the sinful lusts of the 
flesh, and endeavor to keep God's holy will and 
commandments. He had received the imposition 
of the apostles' hands, and heard them invoke 
upon his head the sanctifying influence of the 
Holy Spirit. He had partaken of the eucharistic 
sacrament, and been admitted into fellowship 
with the inspired messengers of the Lord of Hosts, 
and had listened to their preaching, and beheld 
their miracles, and witnessed their spotless and 
self-denying lives. Yea, he had been surrounded 
by an atmosphere of Christian love, and had 
before his eyes the daily spectacle of eminent 
and admirable examples. How was it that he 
had not discovered his own utter unworthiness to 
belong to such a company ? that he felt no 
alarm at his past hypocrisy ? that he feared not to 
thrust himself into the assembly of the faithful ? 
Why did he not rather withdraw himself, until, 
by deep and earnest penitence, and humble 
confession and supplication before God, he had 
a right to hope that his sins were forgiven? 
What madness could have possessed him, that he 



52 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

should add to all his other iniquity the enormous 
presumption of contending for the highest place 
amongst the saints, and even of resting his claims 
upon a deliberate lie, in the very presence of the 
Lord of truth and holiness ? 

The mystery is explained by the words of St. 
Peter, and does not admit of any other solution : 
" Satan had filled his heart.'' The Evil Spirit 
had found an easy entrance into his proud and 
covetous soul, and led him captive to the most 
absurd and dangerous of all delusions. Satan 
stimulated his envious discontent, and excited his 
foolish ambition. Satan cast a veil over the 
guilt of his hypocrisy, and flattered his meanness 
by calling it necessary prudence and discretion. 
Satan suggested the refuge of lies, and taught 
him to palliate the sin of his awful profanation. 
Satan aided him to corrupt the conscience of his 
unhappy wife, and make her his ready confede- 
rate in iniquity. It Avas no new work with the 
fallen archangel to tempt mankind to ruin. He 
had succeeded in drawing Adam and Eve into his 
toils, even in the garden of God, by persuading 
them that the violation of the divine law would 
elevate their condition. He had obtained a full 



THE DEATH OF ANANIAS. 53 

control over Judas while lie was in daily com- 
munion with Christ himself, as one of the chosen 
twelve, until the wretched dissembler resolved to 
betray, with a hypocritical kiss, his divine Lord 
and Master. Tea, he had even prevailed over 
Peter, for a while, and induced him to deny the 
very Saviour for whom he had, but a few hours 
before, been ready to put his own life in jeo- 
pardy. Well did the penitent apostle know the 
subtle power of the arch deceiver ; bitterly had 
he experienced the skill of Satan in availing 
himself of the sins and weaknesses of every human 
heart, which forgets, or refuses to acknowledge, 
its dependence on the Creator and Redeemer ; 
and therefore he pronounced, with absolute con- 
fidence, upon the true state of the guilty Ananias, 
and the Lord openly vindicated the holiness and 
majesty of his glorious name by the stroke of 
instantaneous death upon the bold and sacrile- 
gious hypocrite. 

That solemn lesson has been recorded for the 
instruction of the faithful to the end of the 
world ; and it is our duty to apply it with sin- 
cerity to ourselves, if we would avoid the final 
sentence of destruction. The sin of falsely pre- 



54 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

tending to make sacrifices for the sake of the 
church, while we are, in reality, seeking our own 
praise and securing our own advantage, has never 
been, and never will be, without many deluded 
followers. The word of God may address the 
striking admonition to the soul; the impressive 
pencil of the artist may present the awful judg- 
ment to the eye ; the ministers of the sanctuary 
may enforce the warning upon the ear, and strive 
to illustrate its deep practical meaning to the 
understanding. But all will be in vain, unless 
we examine ourselves, search out our own spirits, 
test our secret motives, and habitually bring our 
deceitful hearts to the standard of " the law 
and the testimony," with earnest humility, with 
jealous watchfulness, and with fervent prayer. 




^Coml/J^r/M^J■/^?la jiz^/i://- 



THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 55 



THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 

BY THE KEY. EDWARD C. JONES, A. M. 

Mother ! thy loved one sleeps the sleep of 
death ! 
The cherished flower is broken from its stem ; 
And she who was for years a treasured gem 
Has withered at the fell destroyer's breath — 
Gone in the bud of maiden loveliness, 
Gone when her voice could charm, her simple 
presence bless. 

Twelve years ago — ah, Hebrew Mother, then. 
Joyous thy hearth-stone ; for a new-born child 
Opened its eyes upon thee, soft and mild. 
And thy fond husband blithesome moved mid 
men; 
For in that little daughter he descried 
His prop in life's decline — -his ornament and 
pride. 



56 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Oh ! how that father hung around her bed 
When her wan cheek gave omen of the tomb. 
Losing by stern disease its roseate bloom ! 

How on his bosom pillowed that young head. 
Whose auburn ringlets oft his hand had prest, 
When in the cool of eve his little one he blest ! 

She lay a dying when he left his home 
To seek the Nazarene, for he had heard 
That sickness vanished at his magic word, 

And life and vigor at his touch would come ; 
And hope still pictured sunlight to his view, 
As every step he took that vision brighter 
grew. 

And did he find him ? Yes — and at his feet 
Pleaded with the pathos of a yearning heart, 
While ever and anon the tear would start, 

Of inward anguish the exponent meet. 
Blinding his vision ; then he found relief 
In one deep sob of wild, impassioned grief. 

But deeper yet his woe when on the ear 

Broke the sad knell, " Thy little one is 

dead !" 
Then hope for ever AYOuld his breast have fled 



THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 57 

Had not the Christ, with bearing mild but high, 
Have uttered those sweet syllables, ^^ Believe ; 
Fear not the issue yet — no more despond and 
grieve.'' 

Beside the couch of death the Master stands, 
His chosen three beside him. None are there 
Who with loud wailings rend the slumbering air ; 

None save the father, who, with firm-clasped 
hands. 
Kneels down in silence ; and that mother dear. 
Who gazes on her child, and presses wildly near. 

Look at that group !^ — There, in his Godhead 
high, 

Stands He of Nazareth, with uplifted hand. 

About to issue forth that stern command 
Which Death himself must answer tremblingly. 

How majesty is blending there with love ! 

And e'en divinity, soft, winning as the dove ! 

How closely press his chosen witnesses, 

Peter, and James, and John- — the favored 

three— 
Who view the bright display of Deity, , 



58 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

And treasure it in memory's deep recess ! 
How breathlessly they gaze to see that form 
Rise from that couch of death, with life's pul- 
sations warm ! 

Hark ! did you hear that voice ? How clear it 

rung, 
Like the deep tone of trumpet — '^ Damsel, 

rise!" 
Look ! light is beaming from that maiden's 

eyes ! 
Hush ! 'tis her gentle breathing — fair and 

young ; 
She wakes to consciousness — wakes as at 

dawn 
Her slumber oft she broke, when shades of 

night were gone. 

Mother, rejoice — oh ! twine her in thy arms ! 

Thy little daughter is thine own again ! 

Yet shalt thou listen to her warbled strain, 
Yet shalt thou linger on her growing charms. 

Yet shall she train the vine by casement high, 

And at the household task her nimble fingers 

ply- 



THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 59 

Father, rejoice ! thou art not childless now ; 
Thy heart may cease its bodings — she is thine : 
Care from thy brow effaces now its line. 

And Heaven is witness to thy fervent vow 
That doubly grateful thou to Him wilt be 
Who fills thy trusting heart with more than 
ecstasy. 

Mid life's stern battle often shalt thou think 
Of that sad hour when anguish wrung thy soul ; 
When thou couldst mark affliction's billows 
roll, 
And, shivering, hung upon despair's dread brink. 
Till He, who with the child of woe could grieve, 
Thy heart did re-assure, and whispered, " But 
believe." 

When sunset glows amid the eastern hills, 
As thy dear child comes nestling to thy side, 
And thy tried partner, once thy blooming bride, 
Her wonted station near thee sweetly fills, 

Then shalt thou talk, thine eye upraised to 

Heaven, 
Of Him who joined anew the links which death 
had riven. 



€0 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Jesus of Nazareth ! the hour will come 

When all who bowed to death thy voice shall 

hear 
Resounding through the sepulchre so clear 
That dust shall start from its accustomed home, 
And sleeping millions spring to life anew. 
And stand an army vast to earth's astounded 
view. 

Oh ! may we rise to life immortal then, 

And feel that our redemption draweth nigh ! 
And view the opening portals of the sky. 

Where scenes, all unportrayed by mortal pen. 
Shall burst upon the vision, wrap the sense. 
And bid the righteous shout for such inherit- 
ance ! 

Then sundered ties once more shall reunite, 
Then hearts shall meet and mingle into bliss. 
In that dear home so lovelier far than this ; 

And each rapt spirit, in its garb so white, 

Shall Avelcome kindred who had passed before. 
And one full swell of joy a living tide shall 
pour. 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 61 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 

BY THE KEY. G. T. BEDELL. 

'* The gods have come down to us in the likeness of 
men/^ 

The announcement would have astonished 
imperial Rome, accustomed to marvelous events 
and godlike visitors. It perfectly bewildered the 
provincial town, which, unambitious of renown, 
had been dreaming away its life under the 
southern shadow of Mount Taurus. 

" The gods are come down to us in the likeness 
of men!" Never had Lystra been disturbed by 
such a tumult. The rumor lacked neither wings 
nor speed. When did a rumor ever perish 
neglected by the wayside ? Fear, hope, doubt, 
as well as curiosity, lent this report clamorous 
tongues, and opened to it ready ears. 

Tradition, Avhich had amused the Lystrans in 



62 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

childhood, or furnished for nurses a tale whereby 
to frighten the unruly, narrates the occurrence 
of a similar event, ^'once upon a time," on the 
further side of the Bgean Sea, amongst the 
inhabitants of Arcadia. Phrygian travelers, 
some fifteen years previous, had astonished them 
with what was generally regarded as only " a 
traveler's tale;" that, being in Jerusalem at 
Pentecost, they had met men who had known an 
incarnate Son of God. Latterly, the story had 
been revived, and now began to be current in 
Asia Minor, that Judea had been visited by an 
Incarnation of Deity. But who could have 
anticipated that Lystra should be thus renowned ! 
— that the gods from high Olympus would 
condescend to take so long a journey to visit so 
quiet, uninfluential, unknown a people ! The 
rumor spread. The murmur rose with gather- 
ing voices. The narrow streets swarmed with 
townsmen. Crafts, merchandise, speculation, 
scandal, the loom, the mill, the shops, the schools 
were deserted for the highways. Such a gather- 
ing of young men and maidens, old men and 
children, never before was seen in Lystra; all 
crowding to the gate to look upon the gods, who, 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 63 

in the likeness of men, had by a word enabled 
the cripple to stand upright on his feet. 

It was an undoubted miracle worthy of gods. 
The man had been a burden upon the town for 
many years. They had all known him, '' ever 
since he was born, impotent on his feet" — a 
creeple^ as the old English hath it — an object of 
universal pity, if not of universal charity. For 
pity was cheaper than charity at Lystra, as 
elsewhere. The gods, who had assumed the garb 
of Jewish strangers, were resolved that the people 
should recognize them by what they had accom- 
plished. The miracle was patent. The conclu- 
sion to which it argued seemed scarcely to admit 
of question. 

Yet there existed a considerable difference of 
opinion among the crowd. Discussion ran high 
between the atheists, the philosophers, and the 
idolaters. The atheists, as they were termed, 
being Jewish merchants or proselytes of Juda- 
ism, with commendable zeal never lost an 
opportunity of denouncing the popular belief, or 
maintaining their own theology. True unitarians, 
worshiping an unmanifested Deity, they denied 
the notion that this strange event could reveal a 



64 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

god ; and, shrewdly suspecting the presence of 
Nazarenes, plainly hinted at magic and Beelze- 
bub. The philosophers, who had found refuge 
from the world's din in the comparative solitude 
of Lycaonia, although equally incredulous of the 
existence of gods, were quite as positive that 
magic could not effect an instantaneously perfect 
cure upon a man ^^who never had walked ;" and 
exposed the glaring inconsistency of attributing 
existence and power to Beelzebub and the 
infernal gods which were denied to the celestial. 
They confessed that facts were stubborn; and 
although not probable, yet it was possible, that 
some novelty existed in heaven or earth not 
dreamt of in their philosophy. The idolaters 
were the multitude ; most vociferous because least 
informed. These never doubted a tradition; 
never hesitated to credit a boldly asserted fable ; 
nor ever could resist the powerful argument of 
a sacred spectacle. A temple gorgeous with gold 
and gifts, gayly-decked sacrifices, garlanded altars, 
lamps, and incense, and flowers, and symphonies, 
and singing boys, poitip and purple and solemn 
genuflections of graceful priests, served always 
for a cumulative argument, and an unanswerable 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 65 

proof. We cannot doubt its force ; sincCj in the 
progress of wisdom from the dark ages, she has 
stumbled upon the skeleton of that formalism, 
half hidden in the ashes of its idol temples, and, 
having raked it out, has thought it best to set up 
the bones in Christian sanctuaries, in order to 
give some substance to the spirituality of Christ's 
religion. The multitude certainly enjoyed the 
most of the discussion ; nor did they consider the 
^'impossible'' of the infidel Jew, nor the incredu- 
lous "possibly" of the half serious philosopher, 
any sufficient reply to the tradition of the 
idolater, which by the present event was both 
illustrated and made certain. 

The visit of Jupiter and Mercury to Lycaon. 
That fable must be revived in the recollections of 
every one who would comprehend the apparently 
hasty decision of the Lystrans, or their discrimi- 
nation of the persons of the gods. 

Lycaonia derived its name from Lycaon, a king 
of Arcadia in Greece ; probably a different indi- 
vidual from him to whom the story relates, but, 
by a very natural confusion of names, confounded 
with him. Lycaon was a tyrant eminently cruel 
and impious. Among other inhumanities, he was 



66 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

reputed to practice cannibalism. The sins of 
men in those days were not supposed always to 
reach the ear of deities; nor were the gods so 
free from human frailties as on all occasions to 
feel at liberty to notice human guilt. The fla- 
grant iniquities of Lycaon, however, forced their 
way to Jupiter's court, and the god, finding retri- 
bution likely to be popular, determined to be 
just. Calling Mercury, his constant companion, 
and with him assuming the likeness of men, they 
entered Lycaon's territory. But the poet, who, 
in the person of the god, administered this poeti- 
cal justice, ought to relate the story : — 

" O'er Maenalus I took my way, 

By caverns infamous for beasts of prey ; 

Then crossed Cyllene, and the piny shade 

More infamous, by cursed Lycaon made : 

Dark night had coverM heaven and earth before 

I entered his inhospitable door. 

Just at my entrance, I displayed the sign 

That somewhat was approaching of divine: 

The prostrate people pray ; the tyrant grins, 

And adding profiination to his sins, 

* I'll try,' said he, * and if a god appear. 

To prove his deity shall cost him dear.' 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 67 

^Twas late ; the graceless wretch my death prepares, 

When I should soundly sleep, oppressed with cares: 

This dire experiment he chose, to prove 

If I were mortal, or undoubted Jove : 

But first he had resolved to taste my power. 

Not long before, but in a luckless hour, 

Some legates, sent from Molossian state, 

Were on a peaceful errand come to treat : 

Of these he murders one, he boils the flesh, 

And lays the mangled morsels in a dish ; 

Some part he roasts, then serves it up so dressed, 

And bids me welcome to this human feast. 

Moved with disdain, the table I overturned. 

And with avenging flames the palace burned. 

The tyrant, in a fright, for shelter gains 

The neigh^bring fields, and scours along the plains ; 

Howling he fled, and fain he would have spoke, 

But human voice his brutal tongue forsook ; 

About his lips the gathered foam he churns. 

And, breathing slaughters, still with rage he burns, 

But on the bleating flock his fury turns. 

His mantle, now his hide, with rugged hairs 

Cleaves to his back ; a famished face he bears, 

His arms descend, his shoulders sink away. 

To multiply his legs for chase of prey ; 

His eyes still sparkle in a narrower space. 

His jaws retain the grin and violence of his face ; 

He grows a wolf. 

Ovid — Dryden^s Translation, 



68 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

When they reached the market-place, the 
atheists and the philosophers were silenced, if not 
convinced. There stood the gods themselves, 
come down again in the likeness of men. How could 
men doubt ? The people recognized them ; and 
such was the excitement, and the tumult of voices, 
crying out " in the speech of Lycaonia," that 
reason could not be expected to hear its own 
whisper, for even truth did not discover the 
noisy falsehood. The candidates for divine honors 
very much resembled ordinary men, yet the people 
knew them to be gods. They had " displayed" the 
infallible '' sign." The '' chief speaker," although 
" in bodily presence weak," was full of zeal, activ- 
ity, and eloquence. All could recognize him, with- 
out the winged cap of the messenger of gods, or the 
snake-entwined rod, emblem of the prudence and 
diligence which belonged to the god of merchants. 
The nobler, calm, holy, silent man, who seemed 
rapt in communings with a divine spirit, the 
^' good man, and full of the Holy Ghost" — there 
was whispering among the togas that he seemed 
scarcely able to wield thunderbolts or to shake the 
earth by his nod ; answered by a hundred satis- 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 69 

factory fierce vociferations, '^ Who then could he be 
but Jupiter?" 

So the gods had certainly come down to Ly- 
caonia, as once before to visit Lycaon. Jupiter 
and Mercury were in the town ! The excitement 
was tremendous ! Business ceased, games were 
suspended, gymnasiums closed ; the market-place, 
for once, was filled by those who came neither to 
buy nor sell, neither to see nor to be seen, but to 
worship. 

There was not so much ado when God did 
come down to us in the likeness of man. A star 
wandered alone to announce Him to the magi : 
they only learned the radiant lesson. Angels 
with songs and heavenly harping waked the sleep- 
ing echoes in the vale of Bethlehem : but only 
simple shepherds were attentive to the sound. 
News reached the inn ; but the travelers were 
fully occupied by politics and the taxing ; none 
had time to inquire concerning that Incarnation. 
The truth at Bethlehem was despised. The lie at 
Lystra was believed. It is no infrequent occur- 
rence in this upside down world. Truth does 
not possess prevalent might on its first manifesta- 
tion ; while falsehood presents its entire strength 



70 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

at once. Truth is always born an infant. False- 
hood is produced full grown. So the God of gods 
incarnate appeared as a child. Jupiter and Mer- 
cury came down as men. A wise man will dis- 
credit an imposing novelty, when others worship 
it a mature god. He will bow down before a newly 
revealed truth, although others despise it be- 
cause laid in a manger and wrapped in swaddling 
bands. 

One such mingled with the crowd at Lystra. 
Between credulity and incredulity true faith can 
scarcely force its way. So, between the infidels 
and the superstitious, young Timothy with diffi- 
culty pressed to see the servants of the Most High 
God — himself unnoticed, except by the Messiah, 
whom, under the instruction of the Spirit speaking 
by the prophets, he was learning to worship at his 
mother's knee. 

The credulous multitude, in the presence of 
the deities, was swayed with various sentiments. 
Some trembled with terror lest the gods should 
have come down on a circuit of justice, and new 
metamorphoses were to be expected. Others hoped 
that, since their houses were not destitute of altars, 
or deities, or daily sacrifice, and at the public 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 71 

ministrations they were constant devotees, Jove 
would overlook the sins from which they could not 
consent to separate, or, if displeased, would visit 
them with a lightened rod. Some, lovers of plea- 
sure, were attracted by curiosity to see a god, 
some delighted that any novelty had relieved the 
dull sameness of their secluded town. 

It will be so when God comes down again 
to us. The world will be like Lystra, inter- 
rupted. God hath come down to us ! How the 
announcement will break in upon us ; busy men, 
even then scarcely willing to leave their plans 
incomplete and their unfinished labors ended; 
listless men, even then scarcely aroused to the 
necessity of thought; scientific men, even then 
scarcely persuaded that any wisdom lies beyond 
the boundaries of the seen ; philosophic men, even 
then scarcely sensible that their investigations of 
intellectual phenomena have not reached the true 
psychology ; pious men, even then scarcely real- 
izing the accomplishment of their daily prayer; 
some fearful, some hopeful, some doubting, some 
believing, some careless, some curious, all asto- 
nished — who prepared ? 

The priest of Jupiter sat in the temple's 



72 OEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

portico, refreshing himself after the toil of the 
morning ministration. The house of the god 
was '^before the gate of the city;" for Jupiter 
was the tutelary deity of Lystra. Already the 
day had passed its noon, when two travelers, 
weary and dusty, approached by the road from 
Iconium. The priest observed their disordered 
dress, as if they were fugitives; but more 
particularly noticed that they omitted all token 
of respect to the god, or to himself his 
representative. But, as they passed hastily in, 
he was left again to his listless meditations. 
Fanned by the northern breeze, which now 
became more cool as the sun declined and left 
the wooded side of Taurus in the shade, he 
suffered time to mark, upon the dial, the progress 
of the day unnoticed. Perhaps three hours may 
have retraced their steps, to await the next rising 
of Aurora from her eastern bed. Three hours, in 
the Providence of Grod, may be as eventful as a 
whole world's life. Three hours sufficed for 
offering the Atonement. In as short a time, 
God may have opened a way for the glad tidings 
of that Atonement to reach the hearts of the 
idolaters of Lystra. Faster than the footsteps 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 73 

of men the rumor hastened to the gate, and, 
leaping the wall, startled the priest from his 
slumber. " The gods are come down to us in the 
likeness of men." Equally astonished, mortified, 
and displeased, the priest shook off his sloth. 
The minister of Jupiter lived upon his credit 
with the god. All his influence with the people 
resulted from the carefully encouraged belief of 
his intimacy with Jove. Whether incredulous- 
ly deceiving, or credulously deceived, he was 
equally dissatisfied by this news. On either 
hand his craft was endangered. Were it untrue, 
he had failed to secure his advantage from a 
popular delusion. Were it true, his god had 
treated him with marked disrespect; and the 
people could not fail to attribute his late 
appearance to the absence of any intimation of 
the visit. If humility and reverence had little 
place, mortified pride and endangered self- 
interest largely influenced the activity of the 
priest of Jupiter, striving, by redoubled diligence, 
to regain his advantage, or to efface the supposi- 
tion of a want of courtesy in his god towards 
himself. White oxen, garlands, incense, and 
boys who could play pleasantly upon the flute 



74 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

and pipe, were at hand for any emergency ; nor 
were the preparations tedious when there was 
such need of haste. And fearful was the excite- 
ment of the people, and redoubled were their 
shouts, as the procession, led by the priest, 
pressed up from the gate, past the statue of 
Mercury, towards the market-place, to sacrifice 
to the incarnate gods. This is the moment for 
Rafaelle's pencil. His marvelous skill transfers 
the whole story to his canvas. 

The day is far spent in Lystra. But the 
market-place near the gate is not deserted. The 
people come crowding in from every side. Ex- 
citement is on every face. The cry is on almost 
every tongue, " The gods are come down, the 
gods are come down to us in the likeness of 
men." Old age, gray-haired and bent, totters 
in to pay its reverence. Men, mature in years 
and superstition, throw down their gifts. Mo- 
thers and maidens and children venture from 
their seclusion, and, forgetting propriety and 
danger in the wonderful spectacle, are swayed 
to and fro with the multitude. Doubt, fear, 
confidence, awe, adoration, hope, have each their 
representatives in the crowd; while faith and 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 75 

love have their only exhibition in the withered 
countenance of the impotent man now healed^ 
forgetting his crutches, his whole face wrinkled 
by former pain and hard poverty, yet lighted 
up wdth gratitude and true devotion. Closest 
to the gods, as was his right, the priest of 
Jupiter busies himself with the ministration; 
more doubtful than believing, as he recognizes 
the travelers who neglected to respect the idol, 
concealing his incredulity with well-feigned 
earnestness. About him are assembled the 
ministers crowned with the sacred oak, the 
garlanded sacrifice ; the tripod altar, already 
smoking ; the boys conscious only of excitement, 
bearing the meal-offering for Ceres, and striving 
to soften the hoarse murmur of the multitude by 
the sweet melody of pipes. The apostles, just 
escaped from the rabble of Iconium, find them- 
selves in a new danger from the idolaters of 
Lystra. The evident intentions of the priest 
have just interpreted the Lycaonian cry, pre- 
viously unintelligible from the confusion of the 
tongues. The people have mistaken them for 
gods. Astonished at the unexpected result of 
their miracle, they shrink from the impious 



76 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

idolatry, they loathe the sacrifice. Barnabas, 
finding no words to express his indignation, rends 
his robe in abhorrence. Paul starts forth in 
grief, and earnest-speaking deprecation : — 

" Sirs, why do ye these things ? We also are 
men of like passions with you, and preach unto 
you that ye should turn from these vanities unto 
the living God, which made heaven, and earth, 
and the sea, and all things that are therein ; who 
in times past sufi^ered all nations to walk in their 
own ways ; nevertheless, he left not himself without 
witness, in that he did good, and gave us rain 
from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts 
with food and gladness.'' And, with these sayings, 
scarcely could the new truth restrain the old gray- 
headed falsehood. The reputed gods denied the 
imputation. Jupiter and Mercury could hardly 
be supposed to refuse their rightful honors. Yet 
Superstition, Passion, Prejudice, and Interest 
turned away from the market-place, and the priest 
led back his reprieved victims, scarcely silenced — 
not at all convinced. 

The philosophers were triumphant. Fair ridi- 
cule they made of devotees, who had almost wor- 
shiped men like themselves, and of a priest, who 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 77 

did not know his own god. Very pressing were 
they now in plying the infidel Jews with arguments, 
taken from the Prophets and from facts, furnished 
by these Judean strangers, proving a true Incar- 
nation and a God manifested. The Israelites were 
angry : but the priest was outrageous. His error 
was " worse than a crime, a blunder." His incan- 
nate Mercury had proclaimed the craft a lie, and 
idolatry sin. His Jupiter had proved to be a 
Nazarene, and the solemnities of sacrifice had 
been interrupted by a sermon on Christ crucified. 
Meet auxiliaries for a heathen priest came travel- 
ing across the mountains, that evening, towards 
Lystra — Jews from Antioch and Iconium, pur- 
suing the apostles. Common hatred of truth 
merged their mutual dislike. The Israel of God 
and the priest of Jupiter took " counsel together 
against the Lord, and against his Anointed." 

Another sight was seen at the gate of Lystra 
when these well-matched demagogues had " per- 
suaded the people." The actors were the same : 
the victim was changed. The superstitious crowd 
pressed on as tumultuous, as excited, as judicious, 
as when they worshiped Paul for Mercury. The 
Jews no longer stood upon the outskirts, covering 
6 



78 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

their infidelity for fear, but now were foremost 
in the throng of angry men. The priest, again 
girdled for the sacrifice, sufiered no restraint. 
The victim, whom he held beneath his feet to-day, 
was the god of yesterday. Only one new element 
mingled in the scene. Tears and prayers of new- 
born disciples of Jesus Christ, unregarded on earth, 
mounted efiectually to the very throne of God, 
whilst the idolaters stoned Paul, and drew him out 
of the city for dead. 

The apostles are sometimes charged with ambi- 
tion. Their experiences at the gate of Lystra 
deny the charge. All the influence and power, 
all the honor and homage, inhering to Deity in the 
established religion of Rome, were there offered 
them. What more could ambitious men desire? 
The voice of tradition, the prejudices of an ancknt 
superstition, the hearts of the people, and the 
interests of the shrine-makers and the priests, 
proffered them, not sacrifice only, nor merely an 
apotheosis, but a present worship as the living in- 
carnation of Deity ; the reality of that which sacred 
fables had taught, and to which popular expecta- 
tion and hopes most fondly turned. What more 
could ambitious men desire ? If the apostles had 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 79 

consented to deceive by means of the priests, and 
to rule by means of the emperor, there is scarcely 
a limit to the authority which they might have ob- 
tained ; controlling the merchants by the caducous 
of Mercury, and swaying the people by fear of 
Jove's thunderbolts. Ambition would have stood 
upon a fearful pinnacle at Lystra. What could 
have withheld it from leaping into the open arms 
of a prevalent superstition? Fear of detection 
will not explain that moral miracle. On the sup- 
position required by the charge that they were 
ambitious in establishing a spiritual religion, and 
consequently constantly acting a falsehood, fear 
of detection must have been much more operative. 
To stem the flood tide of popular feeling with a 
deception is by no means so easy as to float down 
with it. Or, if the charge of ambition be not pu^t 
to rest, when the apostles trampled on its most 
signal temptation, certainly some new definition 
must be found for it, if employed to describe the 
spirit actuating the Nazarene, who chose rather to 
be drawn forth from the gate of Lystra dead than 
to be worshiped in Lystra as Mercury. 

Faith accomplished that victory. It overcomes 
the world. It overcame ambition and the fear of 



80 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

death. Those Nazarenes were men of one idea, on 
which faith had settled ; of one purpose, which 
faith inspired ; of one will, which faith had deter- 
mined. Jesus Christ was the one object of that 
faith. There is no other victory which overcomes 
the world. When the flesh or the devil, the lust 
of the eye or the pride of life, the remembrance 
of unforgiven sin, the temptation of hoping in an 
actually present, seen reward, or the terrible fear 
of an unknown future, assaults the soul, there is 
no other victory than faith in Jesus Christ. That 
victorious faith is not a speculative belief in Christ, 
as a possible existence ; not a cold intellectual per- 
suasion that he is a god, or like a god, unapproach- 
able and unmanifested, some Mercury or Jupiter ; 
but a glowing, earnest, relying confidence in him 
as a Redeemer, God Incarnate, Man to sympathize, 
God to save. 

Uninformed or prejudiced popular opinion is a 
vane shifting with every current. Even a heathen 
poet has taught us to distrust it. " Justum ac 
tenacem propositi virum" — one conscious of recti- 
tude and possessing a will is shaken, in his purpose, 
neither by popular applause nor disfavor. Had 
men, less unmindful of popularity, attempted to 



PAUL AND BARNABAS AT LYSTRA. 81 

establish Christianity, the new-born truth must 
have been early slain and parted between the 
claimants of its guardianship. The apostles held 
it as far aloof from popular protection, when all 
were shouting, ^' the gods are come down to us in 
the likeness of men !" as they wrapped it closely 
to their bosom when, amidst the murderous stones, 
they heard the vociferations, " away with such a 
fellow from the earth !" The church, the minis- 
try and the individual Christian should receive 
the lesson from apostolic example. The greatest 
danger of Christianity, in our country, and at our 
time, is its popularity. Churches are in danger 
of conforming doctrines, both of faith and prac- 
tice, to popular opinions. Ministers are in danger 
of proclaiming only popular truths. Christians 
are in danger of leading popular lives. The 
Saviour's warning is especially applicable in a 
community where only that is seemingly prosper- 
ous which is popular : '^ Woe unto you when all 
men shall speak well of you." The cause of the 
Gospel is much nearer its acme when its apostle 
is drawn bleeding from the gate, while a few true- 
hearted, loving men wrestle in prayer for him and 
nerve themselves for victory, than when its 



82 GEMS FROM THE SACEED MINE. 

Barnabas and Paul are reckoned among the gods, 
and the only lover of the truth, young Timothy, 
cannot be seen amongst the crowd. 

This was one of the few vigorous, well-directed 
blows by which superstition was prostrated. In 
divine Providence, the short but eventful visit of 
the apostles to Lystra effected the ruin of its 
idolatry. This city very speedily contained a 
Christian brotherhood. During the short interval 
of the apostles' absence, while preaching in Derbe, 
the church in Lystra obtained a name with others 
of Asia Minor: so that we read, the apostles 
" returned to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch, con- 
firming the souls of the disciples, and ordaining 
elders in every church." No other result could 
have been anticipated. That religion could surely 
no longer deceive the citizens which was not able 
to distinguish for them the divine Patron of the 
city. That priest could surely never again raise 
his hand for sacrifice who could mistake a Naza- 
rene for Jove. Superstition did indeed sufficiently 
revive to stone Paul; but Paul, reviving, dealt a 
deathblow, in Jesus' name, to the worship of Ju- 
piter at Lystra. 



PETER AND JOHN. 83 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME 

MAN. 



BY REV. R. T. BROWN. 



Raphael! thy genius bathed in Olivet's sweet 
dews, 
And in Siloa dipped thy pencil's magic point; 
The oil of gladness did thy soul anoint ; 

Kind heaven its purest rays did not refuse 

Blending its colorings with thy fancy's views. 
Thine inspiration was from Patmos drawn 
With richer glories than the golden dawn 

When bright Aurora mingles sapphire hues. 
Borne high by rapture to the sacred mount 
Where roll the silvery waves of Zion's fount. 

Of all the shades thy spirit bade thee choose 
The deathless lines of consecrated truth, 
Whose master touches wear immortal youth 

To lure the Pilgrim and inspire the Muse ! 



84 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

I. 

It is the hour when sacrificial fire 
Flames high, and incense, rolling through the air, 
Bids heavenward love with sacred warmth aspire 
To heavenly themes. It is the hour of prayer ; 
From earthly scenes the wayworn sons of care 
With joyful feet now throng the Temple Gate. 
Up to the altar's shadows all repair, 
Before the Lord in meek devotion wait. 
While Zion's ordered priests stand girt in solemn 
state. 

II. 
It is the hour of prayer. Each teeming street 
Pours forth its throngs to Mammon's sinful 

shrine ; 
A faithful few within the temple meet 
To pay their vows and orisons divine. 
For still their hearts around the altar twine. 
They love the courts which oft their fathers trod 
As if they saw the bright, prophetic sign 
Waved from the sky by Israel's angry God, 
Dooming their fated race beneath the oppressor's 

rod. 



PETER AND JOHN. 85 



III. 

The Nazarene had stamped a burning seal 
Of woe on every column, arch, and stone ; 
Soon shall the heavenly hosts with flaming steel 
Gird all those hills as with a fiery zone ; 
Soon shall the tempest through the valley moan, 
And eagles hasten to the gathering prey; 
A rending sigh, sad Nature's fearful groan. 
Shall usher in the last prophetic day 
When Zion's strength shall bow, her beauty fade 
away. 

IV. 

Come forth, come forth ; it is the hour of prayet ! 
Ye who have hearts to pray go bend ye now 
Within those fated walls ; there nobly dare 
Upon those courts in stricken grief to bow ; 
Pile on the fuel, pay the costly vow — 
For, though ye cannot turn Jehovah's word, 
Yet ye can have His seal upon your brow 
To shield you when the thundering warrior-horde 
Shall waste your father-land with death, and fire, 
and sword. 



86 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

V. 

Ye who have hearts to pray for Zion's state 
Come forth, and kneel before the mercy seat. 
While yet the altar stands, and fearful fate 
Forbears to spread her dusky pinions fleet, 
And o'er those walls her withering woes repeat ; 
Come forth, and pray at holy temple hour, 
And, while the priests around the altar meet, 
Pray ye for grace when deadly storms shall 

lower 
To crush Judea's hope, and blight sweet Sharon's 

flower ! 

VI. 

Come from the vintage and the waving field! 
Let all the tribes troop forth with holy zeal ; 
Let every hill its sighing tribute yield. 
And every vale the pulse of fervor feel : 
Soon shall the temple's honored bulwarks reel. 
The city wail, and all the blooming land 
Shall droop in sadness when the Lord shall deal 
His swift destruction with unsparing hand. 
And Eome's proud legions round your homesteads 
stand. 



PETER AND JOHN. 87 

VII. 

Vainly we plead ! Deep darkness, like a pall, 
Draws round each heart, and blinds each sinful 

eye. 
They heeded not the prophet's startling call ; 
They hearkened not to voices from the sky ; 
The blood of Christ in every breeze doth cry ; 
Their cup of gall and wrath is running o'er, 
And they shall drink its dregs with frenzied sigh : 
The tribes shall keep the festivals no more, 
When lurid flames shall wrap each gate and tem- 
ple door. 

VIII. 

Among the faithful few who come for prayer, 
Behold two Christian men ascend the steep ! 
Wear they the Pharisees' exalted air ? 
Walk they like priests, in haughty schemings 

deep. 
To fan rebellion's flame and lucre reap? — 
Lowly their mien ; but they are true and brave. 
Immortal thoughts within their bosoms sleep — 
Thoughts born to shake the hear tand nations 

save, 
When they go forth their standard cross to wave. 



88 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



IX. 

They are apostles of the Crucifiedj 

Endued mth power and unction from on high 

To preach the name of Him whose blood hath 

dyed 
Yon guilty mount whose brow defies the sky. 
Dark with the memory of its tragedy; 
But, ere they go, they come with pious care 
To kneel in temple ground, and sadly sigh 
O'er Zion's walls, to chastened memory dear, 
And shed upon her dust the patriot's bitter tear. 

X. 

For they had seen the tears their Master wept 
When from sweet Olivet he saw the cloud 
Which o'er the guilty city calmly slept; 
They heard his prophet voice, uplifted, loud 
Denouncing woe against the sinners proud : 
Oh let them pray ! and yield to early dreams 
And all the bitter thoughts that on them crowd, 
Ere o'er the walls the foeman's armor gleams, 
And through the smoking courts the crimson 
torrent streams ! 



PETER AND JOHN. 89 

XI. 

Perchance those dreams of fresher days now 

meet 
No more like golden clouds, but drear and pale, 
And rest in sadness o'er each busy street, 
Or wrap each sacred court with misty veil ; — 
Perchance they tread the shore, and mark the 

gale 
Sweep with bold wing the wide lake's restless 

sea, 
And launch the fishing-boat, and hoist the sail. 
And cast the nets, with hand and spirit free, 
Within the native deep of rolling Galilee. 

XII. 

Called by their Master's voice from that wild 

shore. 
They left their nets, obedient to his call : 
A home, a country they shall have no more; 
Their fleeting steps shall girt earth's rolling 

ball. 
Voices of love now chide the air, and fall 
With plaintive music on the spirit's ear; 



90 GEMS FROM THE SACKED MINE. 

And though they gave to Christ their hearts, 

their all. 
Yet, if sad thoughts oppress them now with fear, 
Oh let them shed, unblamed, one silent bitter tear ! 

XIII. 

Draw nigh, apostles of a saintly creed. 

And quaff cool draughts from Zion's sacred 

spring, ,^ 

To brace your arms to scatter goodly seed, 1 
With heavenly speed your herald feet to wing ! 
Siloa's storied brook is murmuring, 
And, as ye wash beneath its healing wave. 
Ye shall have nerve your red-cross flag to fling, 
Whose gracious folds the stricken earth shall 

save. 
And cast its peaceful shadows o'er the martyr's 

grave. 

XIV. 

At length they come, as if oppressed by fate, 
By weighty thoughts wild warring in the soul ; 
Why pause they now before the Beauteous Gate ? 
Do bitter thoughts o'erleap meek faith's con- 
trol. 



PETER AND JOHN. 91 

Andj lashed to wildness, o'er their spirits roll ? 
Now that their path is traced with bloody line. 
Swerve they in terror from the painful goal ? 
Does saddened memory point, with touching 
sign, 
To old familiar scenes once trod by feet divine ? 

XV. 

It is the piercing voice of human grief 

That chains their steps within the temple's 

shade : 
A lame man, brought for charity's relief. 
By friendly hands within the gateway laid. 
Where Judah's vows and oflferings were paid. 
Asked alms of them that entered in to pray. 
From morning's light till evening's glories fade, 
He tells his grief and chants his moving lay. 
And none can hear his tale and coldly pass away. 

XVI. 

A piteous lot ! Lame from his mother's womb. 
Youth's joyous blood ne'er bounded through 

his veins ; 
He drags his mortal burden to the tomb. 
Oppressed by life, consumed by fearful pains ; 



92 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

The bright sun shines^ the fair moon gently 

wanes. 
Stars light their fires within the jeweled 

skies ; 
But day's broad glare, and night's illumined 

plains, 
Bring no sweet change to his despairing eyes — 
He hails the dawn with tears, the silent eve with 

sighs. 

XVII. 

Oh, could we read the annals of his lot. 
What moving chronicles it might declare I 
His home, perchance, upon some sunny spot, 
Among the vales of Palestina fair, 
Where palm trees waved, and roses kissed the 

air : 
While merry footsteps bounded o'er the sod. 
His limbs were chained, his brow o'ercast with 

care ; 
His strength all withered by the weighty rod, 
He moaned in piteous grief, and kissed the hand 

of God. 



PETEE AND JOHN. 93 



XVIII. 

He marked each starting bud and blooming 

flower, 
Each tender tree upspringing from the ground, 
The vine entwining through the woodland 

bower, 
And varied life's fresh beauty all around ; 
He heard the breeze, the wild bee's humming 

sound. 
He saw the silver streamlets dancing bright, 
But still he lay in helpless bondage bound. 
His cry by day, ^^ Would God 'twere dusky 

night !" 
At midnight hour, he cried, " Would God 'twere 

morning light !" 

XIX. 

Thus slowly passed his joyless infancy. 
And manhood's prime but ripened sadder woe; 
His mother's eye, oft glancing tenderly, 
With gushing tears would ever overflow 
To see her boy unmanned by such a blow ; 
The babes with whom he smiled upon the lawn 
7 



94 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Through youth's sweet years to manly vigor 

grow — 
Free as the wind they spring before the dawn, 
To chase the mountain-goat and snare the timid 
/ fawn. 

XX. 

Butj though all else was teeming full with life, 
The sluggish pulse still slumbered in his breast ; 
The sinews shrank, unstrained in manly strife ; 
The muscles slept, in tedious bondage prest ; 
The quivering nerves ne'er calmed their chords 

to rest. 
A man in thought, in infancy he moans ; 
With man's impulse, by manly deeds unblest ; 
High swelling hopes are all suppressed with 

groans — 
The secret fire of God drinks vigor from his 

bones. 

XXI. 

A shattered wreck on life's dark waters tost. 
Sweet hope at last vouchsafes him one mild ray. 
With sacred round the feast of Pentecost 
Invoked the tribes their annual gifts to pay 



PETER AND JOHN. 95 

With one accord, to keep the festive day. 
While joyous friends were passing swiftly by. 
He sued them all to take him on the way, 
That Salem's towers might cheer his drooping 

Within her holy grounds to live or meekly die. 

XXII. 

Oft had he heard, by rumor's restless breath. 
Of that famed Man whose simple word could 

heal 
The sick and halt, call life from silent death, 
The lame restore, the blinded eyes unseal. 
The balm of woe, the magic spring of weal ; 
Or he but wished to kiss the altar's base. 
The temple-air to breathe, its quiet feel. 
That Israel's God might bless a broken vase. 
And fill a trembling soul with His abounding 

grace. 

XXIII. 

And now the sacred hills have caught his sight ! 
His shriveled breast with bounding joy expands ; 
Tradition's storied legends clothe with light 
Fair David's seat, the joy of all the lands : 



96 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

With trembling strength he clasps his feeble 

hands. 
With plaintive voice he breathes a grateful 

song, 
While Zion's beauteous pomp before him 

stands ; 
He thanks the Lord for leaving free his tongue, 
And, as they bear him on, he rolls the strain 

along. 

XXIV. 

Immortal love within his bosom burns ; 
At length he sees dear Salem's chosen seat ; 
From hill to hill his eye with rapture turns. 
Oh ! could he spring and run with joyous feet^ 
Compass those towers, the work of ancient 

years ! — 
Yet e'en to thinh^ smdfeel, 2ind gaze is sweet ! 
Kissing the rod which all his vigor sears, 
He yields his only gift, a gush of grateful tears. 

XXV. 

And now within the Beauteous gateway laid, 
On holy ground he rests in quietude ; 



PETER AND JOHN. 97 

The incense sweet, the temple's tranquil shade 
All melt his heart in fervent gratitude ; 
The pressing crowds harm not his solitude 
Calm, as if o'er him waved his native palms ; 
His inner strength by pious love renewed. 
His heart's deep wounds are closed with mercy's 
balms, 
And all who passed him by gave generous alms. 



XXVI. 

The Pharisee, with high and lordly air, 
And flowing robe around his proud form bound, 
Threw forth his alms with ceremonious care. 
And then passed on, with trumpet loud to sound 
The righteous deed to all who stood around ; 
A gentle widow, in her robes of grief, 
Who sadly nursed her bosom's secret wound. 
With humble mite and words of soothing brief 
Passed on in haste to pray like trembling aspen 
leaf. 

XXVII. 
The two apostles, deep in thought, draw nigh ; 
Brethren they come before their Lord to bow : 



98 GEMS FEOM THE SACKED MINE. 

Peter, with fire still flashing in his eye^ 
And high resolve imprinted on his brow. 
Burns to redeem his sadly broken vow ; 
John meeker steps, the man of saintly love ; 
His chastened features with pure lustre glow : 
And, as the pair in friendly concert move, 
We see, conjoined in one, the lion and the dove, 

XXVIII. 

The lame man, lying in the gateway high, 
Asked alms of each, as he passed on to pray^ 
And looked upon them with a piteous eye ; 
Then Peter said, "Look thou on us!" — A 

brighter day 
Shall soon illume his fate with healing ray :— 
He gave good heed to those commanding tones, 
Ready to take the gifts their love might pay ; 
Nor thought that voice could brace his nerve- 
less bones, 
And give him manhood's ripened strength, and 
songs for groans. 

XXIX. 

Then Peter said, " Silver and gold of earth I've 

none ; 
Such as I have I freely give to thee : 



PETER AND JOHN. 99 

In the Great Name of David's Greater Son, 
Rise up, and walk in perfect liberty !'' — 
Then took him by the hand most tenderly, 
And raised him up. Soon as his trembling feet 
Had touched the earth, he leaped all joyously. 
And ran with speed the temple courts to greet 
With loud hosannas and with grateful praises 
sweet. 

XXX. 

The bounding blood ran tingling through his 

veins. 
His feet and ankle bones were firm and strong ; 
The breath, once slowly drawn with fear and 

pain. 
Now boldly pours in fullest tide of song ; 
The starting muscles, bent in durance long, 
Like waking giants stretch themselves for play. 
He walked and leaped among the wondering 

throng 
Joyous and free as childhood's sportive day. 
And in the temple ran, to praise his God and 

pray. 



100 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE. 
XXXI. 

The high impulse of newly-wakened life 
Sends thrilling gladness through his heaving 

frame ; 
Now he could dare the elements to strife. 
Outstrip the sportive breeze, the winged flame ; 
Scarce can he chain his speed, his vigor tame : 
A man in strength, a child in lightsome mirth 
He vows to shout and celebrate the name 
Which healed the sorrows of his hapless birth, 
And track the apostles' footsteps o'er the smiling 

earth. 

XXXII. 

Oh who can tell the joys that now o'erspread 
His heart's full depths, and through its chambers 

roll ! 
He reaches forth his arms, uplifts his head — 
Each limb obeys his will's sublime control ; 
The name of Christ hath made him strong and 

whole. 
Now he can climb the hills, and trace the 

streams. 
And in each vale and on each forest knoll 



PETER AND JOHN. 101 

Chase flitting shades, and sunlight's dancing 
gleams, 
And gild stern manhood's strength with childhood's 
smiling dreams. 

XXXIII. 

While thus he leaps, he holds the apostle's 

hands, 
Nor can release them from his strong embrace ; 
Gladly resolves to tell through all the lands 
Of Israel's hope, of God's redeeming grace ; — 
His willing feet earth's circuit wide could trace, 
A consecrated herald of the sky. 
Anointed runner of a glorious race ; 
With bounding spirit and a sparkling eye 
He pants to reach the goal, and on the breezes 

fly- 

XXXIV. 

The meek apostles give to Christ the praise : 
The Crucified still lives, and in his Name 
The humble fishermen his banner raise. 
And crown his cross with bright enduring 
fame ; 



102 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Give health to sick, strength to the halt and 

lame; 
Ears to the deaf, and eyesight to the blind ; 
Corruption heal, the tiger passions tame ; 
Pour oil of joy upon the troubled mind, 
And breathe the love of Christ upon each passing 

wind. 

XXXV. 

Nations, long bound in sinful durance vile, 
Else up and walk when Christ hath made them 

free ! 
O'er broken chains and darkened hopes they 

smile, 
Exulting high in Christian liberty, 
While waves the Cross o'er every land and sea : 
Sinners made whole now throng the Beauteous 

Gate 
Of Christ's dear Church, her mysteries to see ; 
Within her courts with richer incense wait, 
And Z'on's ordered priests stand girt with nobler 

state. 




"//«/ y-^Ja^Z^i^A: 



THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 103 



THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 

BY THE RIGHT REVEREND ALONZO POTTER, BISHOP OP 
PENNSYLVANIA. 

The Resurrection of Christ was the resurrec- 
tion also of great truths. Principles which to us 
seem all but self-evident had been for ages buried 
deep out of the sight of men^ and they seem now 
to have come forth as if reanimated with him. 
Among them is one which must ever stand in the 
foreground of our religious faith — he that hum- 
hleth himself shall he exalted. 

It is a truth perfectly congenial with the reflec- 
tions and sympathies of every ingenuous and 
thoughtful mind ; it had been corroborated by all 
the experience of mankind ; — and yet, until this 
time, no uninspired sage or school had ever evolved 
it as a moral guide in the pursuit of happiness 
or virtue. It was reserved to Him who gave to 
men the most wonderful example of condescension 
and self-abasement to show, in his own history, 



104 GEMS mOM THE SACKED MINE. 

how the highest eminence of glory and worth 
waits on the lowliest in heart. When Jesus began 
to teachj the first lesson which fell on the asto- 
nished ears and hearts of his disciples, and on theirs 
still more astonished who had long been perplex- 
ing themselves with the great ethical problem of 
antiquity — which is the summum bonum, the chief 
good — that first lesson ran : " Blessed are the poor 
in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.'' 
And when he came to the end of his earthly min- 
istry — so crowded with monuments of his divine 
wisdom and power — he gave to this lesson its 
most impressive illustration, by passing through 
the strait gate and narrow way of a most igno- 
minious death to reveal that name which is above 
every name on earth or in Heaven. 

No grave could be more forlorn than that which 
received the lacerated body of the Saviour. The 
most cherished hopes of his friends had been dis- 
appointed. By his enemies he was exultingly 
stigmatized as " that deceiver.'' When living, he 
had not where to lay his head; and now that he 
is dead, he owes to the indulgence of Pontius Pi- 
late the privilege of burial — to the charity of Jo- 
seph of Arimathca the narrow space that encloses 



THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 105 

his remains. Sixty hireling soldiers watch his 
sepulchre lest his body should be stolen. A great 
stone has been rolled to its entrance, and sealed 
with the official seal. Those who had once pro- 
fessed themselves ready to go with him unto 
death seem now bereft of all hope, if not of all 
faith. Save two lone women, full of woman's un- 
failing love, no one of his numerous followers is 
near on the dawning of that eventful day. Every 
indignity that could stain and dishonor his per- 
son had been heaped upon him dying — every 
token that could denote helpless and hopeless 
desertion seemed to gather round him dead. His 
mission had failed, his friends themselves being 
judges. His sun had set in shame — and who is 
bold enough to anticipate its rising ? 

It is when his chosen ones thus touch the low- 
est point in humiliation that God delights to put 
upon them the highest dignities. Hard by the 
Cross he suspends the Crown. In emptying 
themselves of their own self-sufficiency and self- 
will, men learn the hardest lesson of obedience — 
and no sooner is that lesson learned than their 
master hastens to reward them with the loftiest 
honors. So it was with holy men of old ; so it is 



106 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

now with Him who is well described as the Man of 
Sorrows ; and so it shall be at last with all who, 
like him, seek, through self-oblivion and self-renun- 
ciation, their way to blessedness. From the deep- 
est abyss in his lone, dark road of abasement, 
Jesus mounts at once to more than regal authority 
and state. He is declared to be the Son of God 
with power. " And behold, there was a great earth- 
quake : for the angel of the Lord descended from 
heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from 
the door, and sat upon it. His countenance was 
like lightning, and his raiment white as snow. And 
for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became 
as dead men. And the angel answered and said 
unto the women. Fear not ye: for I know that 
ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here : 
for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place 
where the Lord lay.'' 

How different the aspect of this event to the 
friends and foes of Jesus ! By the former, it 
seems, as we have said, to have been wholly un- 
looked for. The two Marys hasten before the day 
dawns to his tomb ; but it is only to embalm him 
for a long death sleep. One of them had some 
time before anointed him with very precious oint- 



THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. 107 

mentj as if in conscious preparation for his bu- 
rial ; and she comes now, with her companion, to 
consummate these mournful offices of love. No- 
thing can well surpass their terror when they found 
the sepulchre empty ; nothing exceed their asto- 
nishment, or the astonishment and incredulity of 
the disciples, when they hear that their Lord is 
once more among the living. Though he had, on 
several occasions, and in the most explicit manner, 
foretold his rising ; though it had been predicted 
in old times by the prophets ; and though, at the 
moment of his expiring on the cross, there had 
been awful signs from heaven sufficient to wring 
even from the pagan centurion the cry " Verily, 
this was the Son of God" — still on thejr minds all 
these significant and conclusive premonitions seem 
to have been lost. Their eyes were holden, that 
they could not see or understand. Grief, disap- 
pointment, and dismay seem to have stupefied their 
faculties ; and the transition of the Saviour dead 
to the Saviour risen and triumphant was scarcely 
greater or more sudden than was their transition 
from the deepest depths of despondence and sor- 
row to the summit of this joyful discovery. Their 



108 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

reluctance to be convinced has thus become to the 
Church a pledge that they were not deceived. 

It was far otherwise with the enemies of Jesus — 
His friends might forget the predictions that He 
should rise — their guilty consciences would not 
allow them to be so oblivious. In nailing the hat- 
ed Nazarene to the cross, they had not succeeded 
in nailing there the fears he inspired. They felt 
that they had been teaching " bloody instruc- 
tions'' — that his death had been compassed by 
unworthy means ; and the spectral form of their 
victim haunted them even in their hours of appa- 
rent triumph. " Now the chief priests and Phari- 
sees came together unto Pilate, saying. Sir, we 
remember that that deceiver said, while he was yet 
alive, After three days I will rise again. Com- 
mand therefore that the sepulchre be made sure 
until the third day, lest his disciples come by 
night, and steal him away, and say unto the peo- 
ple, He is risen from the dead : so the last error 
shall be worse than the first. Pilate said unto 
them. Ye have a watch : go your way, make it as 
sure as ye can. So they went and made the 
sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, and setting a 
watch.'' It is well ! Multiply your precautions, 



THE EESUREECTION OF CHRIST. 109 

for thereby you shall multiply evidence that Jesus 
is indeed the Christ. That guard — that stone — 
this seal — your own sleepless vigilance, as each is 
an obstacle to His Rising, so shall each be proof 
that the Rising is of God. Shall Roman soldiers 
dare to sleep when on guard ? — sleep too when set 
to watch such a charge ! — sleep, sixty of them, 
simultaneously ! — sleep, and go unquestioned, un- 
punished ! nay, boldly proclaim that they have 
slept, and that by sleeping they have defeated the 
very object of their employers ! ! As the women 
were going to tell the disciples that Jesus was 
risen, '^behold, some of the watch came into the 
city, and showed unto the chief priests all the 
things that were done. And when they were assem- 
bled with the elders, and had taken counsel, they 
gave large money unto the soldiers, saying. Say 
ye. His disciples came by night, and stole him away 
while we slept. And if this come to the governor's 
ears, we will persuade him, and secure you. So they 
took the money, and did as they were taught. And 
this saying is commonly reported among the Jews 
until this day." Never did guilt betray its short- 
sighted imbecility more than in framing this tale. 
If the death of Christ had stupefied the understand- 
8 



110 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

ing of his friends^ the disappearance of his body 
surely did not add to the sagacity of his enemies. 
Their only witnesses are those who testify to 
what transpired while they slept ! — and their 
only alleged fact is the stealing of a dead body 
by men who, in stealing it, would only have added 
a hundredfold to their own dangers and embar- 
rassments ! 

And what was the effect of that act of robbery 
on the characters of those who committed it ? 
Till now dejected, timorous, paralyzed — they all 
at once became undaunted and full of hope. The 
same Jesus whom they had basely deserted when 
living, and of whom they had despaired while he 
lay in the sepulchre of Joseph, they now boldly 
preach. They are cast into prison — they are 
brought forth and questioned before chief priests 
and rulers of the Jews. They are commanded 
with threats and with scourging to teach and 
preach no more in the name of Jesus ; but their 
only answer is after this manner : ^' Ye rulers of 
the people, and elders of Israel, if we this day be 
examined of the good deed done to the impotent 
man, by what means he is made whole ; be it 
known unto you all, and to all the people of Is- 



THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST. Ill 

rael, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Naza- 
reth, whom ye crucified^ whom Grod raised from 
the dead^ even by him doth this man stand here 
before you whole. This is the stone -which was 
set at naught of you builders, which is become 
the head of the corner. Neither is there salva- 
tion in any other : for there is none other name 
under heaven given among men whereby we must 
be saved." Never before did base and dastardly 
acts of theft elevate men to the height of heroic 
courage and self-devotion! 

The Resurrection is the great fact of our Re- 
ligion on which all others hinge. It is the great 
fact in the history of our fallen humanity, which, 
once established, spreads the sunshine of hope 
over the prospects of the individual and over the 
coming futures of the race. To be comprehend- 
ed thoroughly, it needs to be surveyed near at 
hand and afar off. It needs to be viewed under 
its natural and its supernatural aspects ;- — as an 
event in which men unconsciously reveal their 
peculiar traits of character as well as the great 
principles of our common nature — and as an 
event in which God discloses His method of in- 
terposing both providentially and miraculously in 



112 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

the affairs of men. Nothing can be more beauti- 
ful or impressive than the manner in which the 
natural and supernatural worlds here meet and 
blend and harmonize ; nor could art the most con- 
summate frame a narrative so true to the heart of 
man, or so accordant to all that we know of the 
purposes and ways of God, as is the simple tale 
from the pen of ^^ unlearned and ignorant men." 



WHERE IS GOD. 113 



WHERE IS GOD? 

BY GEORGE BETTNER, ESQ. 

Above, around, within, abroad. 

Is felt the presence of our God ! 

The heaven of heavens his throne on high, 

And earth is cradled in the sky. 

Oh ! should we on the morning wind. 

Far as it sweeps, repair. 
And trace each dim and viewless sphere 

That wheeleth through the air — 
Or seek the place where darkness hides — 
Or search the depths of ocean's tides — 
Thy hand. Eternal, we should find 

To hold us everywhere. 
The sea, the air, the stars that shine 

In night's illumined path, 
Are emblems of thy power divine. 

Or ministers of wrath. 



114 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

The offspring of the race are we. 

Thy judgments overthrew — 
Oh, shield us from thy vengeance. Lord, 

Nor let it strike anew ! 

We gaze upon the rolling clouds. 
Which not a shade of terror shrouds ; 
Though from them once the torrents came, 
And thunder-bolt and lightning flame, 
O'erwhelmed the world below. 
To us they now serenely glow. 
And glitter with the covenant bow. 
The sun that rules the subject orbs 

Himself subjection feels : 
On Gibeon, in the battle hour. 

He stops his burning wheels ; 
Whilst warring hosts their standards rear, 
And wield the flashing sword and spear, 
Till moonbeams shed their mellow light 
Upon the fallen Amorite ! 

Jehovah ! often is thine arm, 

Thy holy arm made bare. 
To rescue from impending harm 

The people of thy care. 



WHERE IS GOD. 115 

For them, e'er since ^'creation's dawn," 

Each work of thine is meant ; 
And when beneath oppression's hand. 
They sufier in a stranger's land, 
And each last, lingering hope is gone- — 

Deliverance is sent. 
Thy mercies, never ceasing, rise 
Like stars which light the boundless skies — 

Thine everlasting realm : 
Or, like the drops which fill the sea. 
Or years which build eternity, 

We cannot number them. 

The water streams from Horeb's rock, 

The fire descendeth like the rain ; 
The altars at thy presence smoke. 

The sea and rivers cleft in twain. 
I hear a rush of armed steeds, 
And foes that march to martial deeds — 
And shout they many an impious word 
Who dare to battle with the Lord ! 
Oh ! Egypt, was it all in vain 
Thou wept' St thy elder offspring slain. 
And felt the wrath of Heaven, that sped 
Its vengeance on thy guilty head ? 



116 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Thy warriors go, and leave behind 

Too many who will weep. 
And pour their wailings on the wind, 

And curse the treacherous deep ; 
But pray that its high watery wall 
Might overwhelm them in its fall ! 
And hark, a sound of joy is sent 
O'er the victorious element ! 
'Tis Israel's flushed, exalted ranks, 
That crowd the Red Sea's sloping banks — - 
And through their tents, loud, clear, and free, 
Floats Miriam's song of jubilee. 
! could they, in their triumph, boast 

A fond, perspective glance. 
And see each future hostile host 

Thus fall as they advance : 
The Canaan in his mountain hold — 

Or Syrians, in their might, 
Bestrew the damp ground, dead and cold. 

Whilst under arms at night — 
Their hymns of praise would higher swell, 
And louder tones of gladness tell. 

Almighty ! changeless evermore. 

All time, and space, and power in Thee — 



WHERE IS GOD. 117 

Whom all acknowledge and adore. 

But none can know or see — 
The mind, the heart, our feeble sense, 
Bow down to thine Omnipotence ! 
The solemn awe that Israel felt. 

Our heaving bosoms feel. 
When, tribe by tribe, they lowly knelt, 

And heard the thunders peal. 
And, gazing up from Sinai's base, 
Beheld the veiling of thy face ! 
And oh ! it were a glorious sight. 

Which other days afford. 
To look on Carmel's holy height. 
And hail the prophet's heavenward flight, 

The chariot of the Lord — 
And, in its wake of fire and light. 
To mark what proof of lasting love 
Is left us as it mounts above. 
To us, to us, there's many a pledge 

And lively token given 
To call our thoughts away from earth, 

And lift them up to heaven. 

Retrace the course of ages back, 
Reflect on their career, 



118 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE. 

What emblems brighten in their track. 

What mighty deeds appear — 
What vows were made, what altars built, 
To purchase pardon for our guilt ! 
Time was when all was darkness here ; 
No glowing hopes the prospect crossed ; 
And when the young, the infant worl(l 
Gave signs of woe that all was lost. 
Then, on the ruined and betrayed. 

Celestial visions beamed ; 
The promises of heaven were made : 

And are they not redeemed? 
Yes; o'er Judea's pastoral plain 
Resounds the loud, triumphant strain, 
Sweeter than notes divinely flung 

From David's minstrel strings ; 
Or seraph song, when softly sung 

By angels on their wings. 
Oh ! well it is that they rejoice, 

The heavenly host of morn. 
And lisp creation's merry voice — 

The promised One is born. 
Behold, the ''^wise men" come to greet. 
And yield their homage at His feet — 



WHERE IS GOD. 119 

With them we kneel, with them we bow. 
Our humbler praise to offer now. 
And join that choir whose song shall be 
A deep, eternal melody. 

Ah ! ye whom vain allurements please, 

Or dark and guilty passions guide — 
Who tread the flowery paths of ease. 

Or nurse a heart of scorn and pride — 
Are there no truths for ye to learn ? 

No cherished hopes to move ? 
No zeal, to make your bosoms burn 

With rapture and with love ? 
Let pleasure pander to the will. 

Corrupt, debase, conceal; 
Yet conscience is undying still. 

And forces us to feel. 
Quench not its light — its vivid glow 
Is the best sense of heaven we know. 
Roll back ! ye mighty waves of time, 

Ye surges, be repelled ; 
And bear me to those scenes sublime 

Solyma once beheld : 
And let my meditations be 
On Bethle'm and Gethsemane. 



120 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

The Saviour comes— but not in pride — 
With thousands marshaled at his side ; 
He comes alone, in lowliness. 
To soothe, to heal, to save, to bless — 
To teach vain man the world was trod 
By Nature's child, and Nature's God. 

He holds the keys of life and death. 
And stills the tempest with his breath — 
The King Supreme of kings is He, 
The Everlasting Deity ! 
Creation owns his sovereign sway, 
And proves the Power we disobey. 
For him is reared no lofty throne — 

No diadem adorns ; 
Alone, he treads the earth alone, 

His coronal of thorns. 
Te stars, that shouted at his birth, 
I hear no more your joyous mirth — 
The gladd'ning sounds that once were sent 
From the bright, crystal firmament : 

But noonday darkness shrouds the skies, 
And earthquakes rend the guilty earth — 

The living quake, the dead arise : 



WHERE IS GOD. 121 

What mean these dreadful agonies ? — 
'Tis done ! the unholy work is done ! 
Oh God ! behold thy martyred Son ! 

On Calvary He dies ! ! 



122 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



ELYMAS THE SORCEREE. 

BY THE RIGHT KEY. B. B. SMITH, BISHOP OF KENTUCKY. 

There is a certain repose and grandeur about 
the character of the sturdy old Romans, which 
is very imposing. The consciousness of supe- 
riority, and long habits of command, smoothed 
down the asperities of pride, whilst they imparted 
calmness and dignity amidst all that was subtle 
and cringing amongst the nations they had subju- 
gated. It is curious to observe the effect of con- 
tact, under such circumstances, between the Ro- 
man and the Jew. In every scriptural instance, 
except in the case of the Christians, it shows shame- 
fully to the disadvantage of the Jew. 

Artful and unscrupulous, they aim at conciliat- 
ing and hoodwinking their haughty conquerors by 
a subserviency so base and unprincipled that they 
often overleap their mark, and disgust where it 
was their sedulous aim to gratify. 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 123 

The Roman, on the other hand, seems almost 
always to have been the gainer from the contact. 
Philosophically indifferent to the superstitions of 
his own country, by this time fallen into contempt 
with the educated classes, and yet of a calm, reflect- 
ive, and sober turn of mind, most of the Romans, 
entrusted with power amongst the Jews, seem 
favorably impressed with the simplicity and sub- 
limity of the worship of the One true God, with- 
out the intervention of graven images or other 
outward symbols. 

It is well worthy of remark how many of the 
Roman officers in Palestine and the provinces 
were afore-prepared to receive favorably the first 
preaching of the Gospel : the Centurion, whose 
son our Saviour healed without even seeing him— • 
Cornelius, Sergius Paulus, and Publius of Malta. 
Even Pontius Pilate, calm and dignified in carry- 
ing out the dictates of what seemed to him to be 
state policy, appears to great advantage by the 
side of the rabid and infuriated Scribes and Phari- 
sees. 

But, however much the absurd superstitions of 
Greece and Rome might have crumbled into decay 
in the time of the apostles, amongst the traveled 



124 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

and better educated portions of the Roman peo- 
ple, it is certain that one of their chief elements 
was at work as powerfully as ever, a tendency to 
believe in the miraculous and supernatural. Nor, 
except on the part of the extremely skeptical, 
is this element to be looked upon with mere con- 
tempt. A certain awe overshadows us when we 
admit that it is more than possible that the super- 
natural was, in that age, far from being altogether 
unreal. It was the age of before unheard-of 
wonders — the visits of Angels — the incarnation of 
the Son of God — the resurrection of the dead — 
of demoniacal possessions, of many signs and won- 
ders, both lying and real. 

Sergius Paulus, at home, might have been no 
believer in the responses of Delphos or of the 
Sybilline Oracles, and yet greatly predisposed to 
believe in similar wonders, better authenticated. 
It is probable, however, in common with the most 
philosophic minds of his age, he was the dupe of an 
overweening credulity ; that he delighted in the 
marvelous ; and yielded himself, with a ready and 
blind fatuity, to the arts of such an one as Ely- 
mas the sorcerer, when, false and recreant Jew 
as he was, he pretended to hold communion with 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 125 

familiar spirits, or to converse with the invisible 
world, or to unfold the scroll of future events. 
And we can readily conceive that he would the 
more easily fall into this snare, if this son of 
Joshua the Jew had first enlightened him into 
some of those more simple and sublime doctrines 
concerning the Godhead, the immortality of the 
soul, the retributions of eternity, and the resurrec- 
tion of the dead, in regard to which the revelations 
of the Old Testament shine forth with such sun- 
like radiance beside the glimmering taper of hea- 
then tradition or human reason. 

Sergius Paulus was at least honest and in ear- 
nest. The Sorcerer (for that is the import of the 
Arabic word Elymas) basely imposed upon this 
honesty, mixing up the arts of a charlatan with the 
solemn teachings of a sage, alternately subduing 
the soul with the awfulness of truth, and stimulat- 
ing the imagination by the mysteries of sorcery, 
and crowning the whole, perhaps, with the arts of 
mesmerism and of sleight-of-hand. 

But he could keep his honest mind and earnest 

soul spell-bound only so long as '^a greater than 

he" was not at hand. As the taper dims its 

ineffectual light before the splendors of the mid- 
9 



126 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

day sun ; as tlie rods of the magicians in Egypt 
fled in terror from the devouring serpent-rod of 
Aaron, so the arts and the trickery of Elymas van- 
ished into thin air before the awful reality of an 
apostolic miracle ; a miracle significant as it was 
terrible, striking blindness upon the eyes of the 
deceiver, and shedding a world of spiritual light 
upon the soul of his dupe — leaving the artful con- 
founded and crushed, and vindicating the honest 
and sincere into the glorious liberty of the sons 
of God. 

Look at those rayless eyes, that prone and 
puzzled brow, those tottering, trembling knees, 
those outstretched, searching, helpless, imploring 
hands, look at that ''blindness all over" which 
there pleads so piteously for our compassion, even 
before the emotions of indignation and contempt 
have died within us ! 

Ah ! how keen was that shaft which entered 
into that soaring and proud soul, at the moment 
he saw Sergius Paulus about to escape out of the 
meshes of that net which he had so long laid for 
his feet, convinced by the simple eloquence of a 
despised Nazarene ! With what proud scorn did 
he repel the sober truth of Paul mih his more 
brilliant sophistry ! How, for a moment, might 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 127 

he doubt whether the flash across his eyes were 
fiery indignation, or the receding of the last 
ray of light before total blindness, whilst his ear 
drank in the burning words, '' full of all sub- 
tilty, and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou 
enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou not cease to 
pervert the right ways of the Lord ? And now be- 
hold, the hand of the Lord is upon thee, and thou 
shalt be blind, not seeing the sun for a season !" 

In some instances, that such a sharp rebuke 
should excite the utmost malignity of the human 
heart, is easily to be conceived. In others, it might 
have the effect, as in the case of Simon Magus, of 
awakening a covetous desire to possess the power 
of working the like miracles. For, as they had 
cultivated the arts of magic and of sorcery solely 
for the purposes of gain and notoriety, and with a 
great price had, perhaps, been initiated into their 
mysteries, they would naturally suppose that the 
apostles were merely masters of a higher school 
of the art, actuated by the same motives, and 
approachable by the same briber. 

But may we not, also, be permitted to indulge 
the hope that, in some instances, the rebuke, in 
connection with the manifest miracle, might have 



128 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

wrought a salutary effect, subduing, at one effec- 
tual blow, the pride of intellect and the lust of 
gain, and " bringing every thought into subjection 
to the obedience of Christ?" 

It is refreshing to hope that the tradition which 
had reached to the times of Origen and Chrysostom 
was well founded, and that it was indeed only for a 
season that poor Elymas saw not the same with 
his natural eyes, in order that the true Sun of 
Righteousness might rise upon his soul, with heal- 
ing in his beams ! 

The name Elymas — sorcerer — stands connected 
with a whole class of subjects of most mysterious 
and absorbing interest : the contortions of the 
Sybil, the responses of oracles, the arts or decep- 
tions of witchcraft, and the being possessed with 
devils. Were they illusions all and sheer decep- 
tions ? Or were they the occasional and strange 
results of occult laws, and wonderful manifesta- 
tions of the true secrets and real mysteries of 
nature ? Had invisible, spiritual beings any con- 
nection with them, or are they the vestiges of the 
mastery which the studious priest had acquired 
over the hidden laws of light, or steam, or electri- 
city, or mesmerism? Or, as the Holy Scriptures 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 129 

clearly reveal to us that there are demons, inas- 
much as they denounce the rites of idolatry to be 
no better than demon worship ; and as the heathen 
themselves claim for their minor deities no higher 
distinction, is it not more than possible, is it not 
in the highest degree probable, that the Almighty 
abandoned them to the delusions which they 
coveted, and permitted the demons for a season 
to exercise a certain limited power over some of 
the refined and occult secrets of nature, to punish 
the wilfully deceived with a more profound and 
tormenting delusion ? For most evident it is that 
the priests and ministers of these delusions were 
neither holier nor happier by means of the arts 
which they practiced ; and that the rest of man- 
kind were all their lifetime subject to bondage, 
tormented with idle fears, and bowed into servile 
subjection to every vice, just in the proportion in 
which they consented to be duped by the arts 
of the magician. And thus a double track was 
prepared for the rapid progress of the glorious 
Gospel of the blessed God. It scattered material 
and social benefits with a liberal hand ; and it eman- 
cipated the soul from the intolerable thraldom of 
tormenting superstitions. Hence, also, it is worthy 



130 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

of notice that the casting out of demons, and the 
rebuking of exorcists, magicians, and sorcerers by 
the exhibition of striking real miracles, became 
one of the most powerful instruments in the hands 
of the Almighty, for convincing, gainsaying, si- 
lencing the most artful and malignant class of op- 
posers, and arraying the Gospel in a panoply all 
its own, and peculiarly adapted to the arena of 
its early conquests. 

That the impression was vastly more pro- 
found in Samaria, the first heathen city the 
apostles ever visited, by reason of the presence 
of Simon Magus there, the arts he had used, and 
the influence he had exerted, there cannot be a 
shadow of doubt. And that Sergius Paulus, the 
deputy of Rome in the rich Island of Cyprus, 
was the more readily persuaded to become a 
Christian, by means of the ascendency which 
Elymas had acquired over him, when a religion 
appeared capable at once of soaring infinitely 
above him who, for a season, had acquired that 
ascendency, is a point so clear as to need no illus- 
tration. The sunlight may well be preferred to 
the meteor's flash; but once to see the meteor 
will make even the sun to appear more glorious. 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 131 

His keen intellect illuminated by a ray direct 
from heaven ; the alloy of his baser passion, his 
pride and his avarice, purged away; the scales 
from his eyes removed ; the agitation of his 
proud spirit subdued to the gentle pulsations of 
an humble, holy, and peaceful hope of the favor 
of God, and the blessedness of an immortal life 
— penetrated with grateful love to the divine 
Redeemer, and beginning to experience the 
transforming influence of that love in rendering 
him docile, gentle, and benevolent, it is sweet to 
think of Elymas as no longer the Sorcerer, but 
as the truly converted Christian, the guest — with 
Paul the honored instrument of their conversion — 
of the noble Sergius Paulus ! What schemes for 
the propagation of the Gospel through that luxu- 
rious and dissolute island may not have origi- 
nated at that hospitable board? What plans 
might have been perfected there for shedding the 
sweet influences of the new religion, so delicious 
to their own souls, over the troubled minds and 
guilty consciences of many an unenlightened 
heathen around them? Certain it is that the 
number of converts was soon so great that their 
first illustrious apostle was constrained to leave 



132 GEMS mOM THE SACRED MINE. 

''Titus there, to set in order the things that were 
wanting." And equally certain that, in after 
and not very remote ages, it held a place so dis- 
tinguished in the councils of the Church Uni- 
versal as to be elevated to the rank of a separate 
patriarchate, which it enjoyed for many succes- 
sive generations. 

True Science, in our age, has succeeded to the 
arts of Magic. Sad, indeed, if it have also suc- 
ceeded to habits of unbelief, and of more sturdy 
and determined opposition to the Gospel ! We 
may well suppose that the sorcerers of old were the 
most astute and sneering of all the skeptics of their 
times. They were admitted behind the curtains. 
They largely read the sooty and sordid side of 
human nature. And though, in one instance out 
of a thousand, like the Witch of Endor, they 
might themselves be startled by the forms they 
had evoked, yet, as a general rule, they must 
have know^n that it was all trickery. And 
hence, nothing was more natural for them than 
to attempt, like Simon Magus with Peter, to 
strike hands in bribery, on the ground that they 
were all of one calling, living by the tricks of the 
same trade. And, when repulsed and rebuked. 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 133 

they would be likely to settle down into a more 
deliberate scorn, and resolute hostility ; crying 
out, with the shrine-makers of the great Goddess 
Diana at Ephesus, ^^that this our craft is in 
danger." 

Not so, indeed, with regard to the motives of 
interest, with the priests of nature, the an- 
ointed skeptics of our age. Still, since they 
can trace the soul through all the channels of 
matter and avenues of life, and find, behind the 
eye, the retina that receives the optical impres- 
sion, and the brain that perceives it ; and back of 
the brain, perhaps, the more ethereal fluid with 
which it may possibly be charged, and yet material, 
they are ready to conjecture, " Why then this is the 
soul, or, if not, behind this there is matter more 
and more ethereal yet, and that must be the soul, 
or else there is none, or else an emanation or a 
part of the Divinity is to it as a soul." And so, 
because beyond a nearer cause in nature they 
can detect a larger and a more remote, and 
beyond that again, another and another still 
more vast, more comprehensive, more ethereal, 
more incomprehensible, they say that either this 
is God, or else there is none. 



134 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

And thus "they become vain in their imagina- 
tion, and their foolish heart is darkened. Pro- 
fessing themselves to be wise, they become fools." 
"None consider eth in his heart; neither is there 
knowledge or understanding to say," "He that 
formed the eye, shall He not see, and He that 
fashioned the ear, shall not He hear?" "Have 
ye not known ? have ye not heard ? Hath it not 
been told you from the beginning? have you not 
understood from the foundations of the earth? 
It is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, 
and stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and 
spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in." 
"Hast thou not known ? hast thou not heard that 
the Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of 
the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is 
weary ? there is no searching of his understand- 
ing." (Rom. i.— -Isai. xl. xliv.) 

If such be not the reasonings of a sublimer 
intelligence within, surely it must be because a 
more terrible judicial blindness has fallen upon 
their minds and hearts than that which for a 
season fell upon the eyes of poor Elymas. 

To know the works of God, and yet not to 
know God, how terrible ! To be delighted with the 



ELYMAS THE SORCERER. 135 

experiment, and never to be introduced to the 
experimenter, how unsatisfying ! To be familiar 
with the laboratory of nature, and to be fasci- 
nated, thrilled, overwhelmed by the evidences of 
a wisdom that is infinite, and a skill that is 
inconceivable, and never to see the face, or be 
permitted to study the character of the Great 
Author of Nature, and yet to know that he is 
always at work above us, around us, and within 
us — oh that some one would teach us more of the 
Almighty ! These are parts of his ways ; but in 
his justice, in his holiness, in his benevolence, 
and, above all, poor sinners that we are, in his 
mercy, we sigh to know more of Him; to know 
him, in Christ, to be a God of Love ; to be our 
reconciled Father, our unchangeable friend, our 
everlasting and all-satisfying portion ! 



136 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



THE JEWISH PILGRIM BEFORE THE 
CITY OF DAVID. 

>BY REV. JOHN COLLINS m'CABE, 

Jerusalem ! Jerusalenij thou art before me now, 
But thy beauty all hath vanished, and the dust is 

on thy brow ! 
Ay, the spoiler long hath rioted where once the 

hallowed strain. 
From temple, and from synagogue, from hill-top 

and from plain, 
From hearth-stone, and from house-top, went up 

to God on high — 
Yes, homestead of the once proud Jew, thou art 

before mine eye ! 
Home of the Jew, each pleasant site sleeps un- 

forgotten here ! 
And the outcast pays his fatherland the tribute 

of a tear. 



THE JEWISH PILGRIM. 137 

As hallowed memories arise, like shadows, wild 
and dim, 

As on the ear of fancy peals our evening-wor- 
ship hymn. 

My fathers' own Jerusalem, how long, oh! say, 
how long. 

Before thy temple rise again, 'mid harp, and 
shout, and song? 

How long before the Jewish maid shall braid her 
long, dark hair 

Beside dear Kedron's silvery stream, and bathe 
her forehead there ? 

How long before the wandering tribes, to every 
quarter driven, 

Shall meet in thee, Jerusalem, again the blest of 
Heaven ? 

How long before thy towers shall rise, all beauti- 
ful and strong? — 

I ask — and echo, like a dirge, replies — "How 
long, how long!" 

Yet, oh ! beloved Jerusalem ! the day is drawing 

near 
When mercy from each swarthy cheek shall wipe 

the burning tear ; 



ii.f 



138 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

When outcast Israel, from each point o'er all 

the earth, shall come. 
And, gazing on thee through their tears, shall 

murmur, ^'Home, sweet home!" 
Thy temple's columns, once again, shall, in the 

evening's sun, 
Stand out in beauty: and the shout — '' 'Tis finish- 
ed — Lo! 'tis done !" 
Shall from her thousand workmen burst ; and then 

the harp's wild strain 
Shall wake proud memories of the past ; and back, 

and back again. 
The echoes of that song shall peal ; and then the 

gushing tear 
Of rapture, coursing down the cheek, shall tell 

how sweet, how dear 
To each the hope that swells the soul, in that glad 

hour given. 
So hallowed that all earthly thoughts shall merge 

in those of Heaven ! 

The silver moon, in queenly pomp, smiles down 

upon the hills — 
The night-bird's song is hushed, and now an awe 

my spirit fills. 



THE JEWISH PILGRIM. 139 

The very dust is eloquent, which tremblingly I 

tread, 
And I stand here alone ! — alone ! — the living with 

the dead ! 
I see the Cross — the Victim there — on me he 

turns his eyes : 
"Father, forgive their ignorance," he murmurs 

ere he dies ! 

Yes, they were Jews that slew the Lord ; hut now 

the hour has come 
"When every knee shall bow to Him," and not 

a lip be dumb ; 
When he who wandered long by pools, in errors' 

'wildering dream. 
Shall quaff the waters of bright truth^ and, in 

her calm, clear stream, 
Shall see the mirrored light of Heaven in "godly 

sorrow's" tear, 
And, looking up to Mercy's throne, shall read his 

"title clear." 

The veil is rending fast which threw its shadows 

o'er our path. 
And Mercy's sun breaks sweetly forth from out 

the cloud of wrath; 



140 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

And, as her bow of beauty spans the now retiring 

storm. 
We see, on Calvary's sun-lit mount, Messiah's 

bleeding form : 
He looks — we weep ; He smiles — we feel, for me 

He died, for me — 
And captive Israel bursts its chain, and stands 

erect and free ! 

The Gentile world in fulness comes, to swell the 

mighty train 
Of kingdoms that shall bow to Him, and own His 

endless reign ; 
And in this fulness comes the Jew — blinded no 

longer now : 
His pilgrimage of tears is o'er — he here renews 

his vow.* 

•^ Psalm cxxxvii. 5, 6. 




'^yu/ 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 141 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 

BY REV. JOHN COLLINS MUGABE. 

The history of Joseph, one prominent portion 
of which is brought before the mind's eye by the 
creative pencil of the artist, forms a brilliant link 
in the great chain of Divine Providence, and is 
but another confirmation (among many) of the 
more modern yet undoubted aphorism, that " Man 
proposes, but God disposes." 

The story of this remarkable man — the scenes 
in which he was an actor, and upon which were to 
turn some of the greatest events in coming time — 
is commenced in the thirty-seventh chapter of 
Genesis, where he is introduced to us at the age 
of seventeen as a shepherd boy, and closes in the 
fiftieth and last chapter of the same with his death, 
at the age of one hundred and ten years. '' Two 
reasons," says Heidegger, in his History of the 
Patriarchs, " are generally assigned why Moses is 
10 



142 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

more prolix in relating the adventures of Joseph 
than of any other of Jacob's children : both be- 
cause his life is a bright example of piety, chastity, 
meekness, and prudence ; and because it was by 
the means of Joseph that Jacob went down into 
Egypt : and, as his going down gave occasion to the 
wonderful departure of the children of Israel from 
thence, so the history of the Jews would have been 
sadly imperfect, and indeed altogether unintelli- . 
gible, without a longer account than ordinary of 
Joseph's life and transactions there." At the 
early period to which we have referred, his seven- 
teenth year, we find him in the patriarchal calling 
of a shepherd, associated with four of his father's 
sons by bondwomen. Gad and Asher, the children 
of Zilpah ; and Dan and Naphtali, offspring of 
Bilhah — a half-orphaned boy, his mother the beau- 
tiful Rachel, the first love of Jacob, to obtain whom 
the bondage of seven years had been borne unmur- 
muringly, and the lengthened period of servitude 
had flown on angel's wings. The beautiful Rachel 
was sleeping in Bethlehem. Thrown into immediate 
companionship with the children of the bondwomen, 
and taught as he no doubt had been by his mother 
to cultivate purity of thought aiul speech, he could 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 143 

ill brook the coarse obscenities of their language, 
or the more disgusting exhibition of their reckless 
and impure conduct. These he reported to his 
father, and in so doing won for himself, no doubt, 
his father's commendation, but at the same time 
the deep and abiding hatred of his brethren — a 
hate which was ere long to manifest itself in a 
manner and circumstance which became the 
turning point not only of his destiny, but of that 
of empires. If, however, his bringing to his father 
^^ their evil report" awoke their ire, what must 
have been their feelings when the stripling ap- 
peared again among them in the field, clad in a 
most costly robe, flashing with variegated colors, 
wearing it as the unmistakable evidence that 
'^ Jacob loved Joseph more than all his children?" 
The sacred narrative informs us that '' when his 
brethren saw that their father loved him more than 
all his brethren, they hated him, and could not 
speah peaceahly to Mm.'' 

While they were thus nursing the fires of jea- 
lousy, and cherishing bitterness and wrath against 
their innocent and unoffending brother, he is made 
the subject of Divine visitation in the form of a 
dream. Reposing, perhaps, beneath the shadows of 



144 GEMS FROM THE SACKED MINE. 

some friendly palm, and beside a murmuring stream^ 
slumber conies down upon his eyelids ; and, while 
the pleasant breeze is tossing his curls and playing 
upon his brow, he imagines himself in a harvest 
field binding sheaves with his brethren. But the 
most striking part of the dream, so much so as to 
induce him in his artless simplicity to tell it to his 
brethren, represented the sheaf which he had 
bound as standing upright, while those bound by 
his brethren stood around his and "^ made obeisance 
to his sheaf." In that age, when dreams were con- 
sidered ^' signs of the things signified," they were 
not slow in placing, as subsequent events proved, 
the true construction upon this one ; and if his 
report of their conduct and the mark of favor he 
received from his father had before awakened 
their resentment, this dream, this arrogant fore- 
shadowing of his farther promotion, their subju- 
gation, was more than their fierce spirits, fiery 
as their harvest suns, could brook. When, then, 
with childlike unconsciousness of wrong, he re- 
peated to them his dream, with one accent there 
burst from their lips this indignant reply, "Shalt 
thou indeed reign over us ? or shalt thou indeed 
have doviinion over us V and, the historian signi- 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 145 

ficantly adds, " they hated him yet the more for his 
dreams and for his words." Stranger visions are 
to be his. Passive under their revealings as were 
the prophets of a later period, when the inspiration 
with which they were filled painted the future in 
all its distinctness and fired their strains with 
poetry of an awful beauty, such as the efi*orts of 
no modern bard have ever reached — '' in thoughts 
from the visions of the night, when deep sleep 
falleth on men" — again there steals upon his spirit 
a stranger and a more startling dream. High in 
the heavens the monarch sun pauses to prostrate 
himself before the Hebrew stripling ; the queenly 
moon, as '' she walks in beauty" bright, stoops to 
do him honor, while eleven of the shining spheres 
above became satellites to the shepherd boy of 
seventeen summers, all typing (he knows not what) 
some great and wonderful ^^ coming event." 

'* Man cannot cover what God would reveal/' 

and this time Joseph acquaints his father and 
his brethren with the strange incidents of his mid- 
night slumbers. With becoming prudence, the 
patriarch checks him in his revelations; and, in 
order to mollify the rage of his brethren, which 



146 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

could scarcely be controlled, lie seeks to show 
them and ''the dreamer" that the whole affair 
of the vision was too preposterous, and the cir- 
cumstances too contradictory, and indeed the 
whole matter too unlikely ever to come to pass in 
those events which were thus seemingly symbol- 
ized — for who could for a moment believe the pe- 
riod would ever arrive when the whole patriarchal 
household, including the living father and the 
dead mother, would bow down to the youngest 
member but one of the family? The living 
father was absolute, the priest and king of his 
own altar and dependents; the remains of the 
mother were mouldering beneath the silent pillar 
at Ephrath, and his eleven brethren were older 
and more powerful than himself. Notwithstand- 
ing this effort on the part of Jacob to quiet the 
apprehensions of his other sons, they still hated 
Joseph ; and while the father seemingly rebuked 
the boy for indulging in vain conceits, he had 
himself been too often the subject of such visita- 
tions not to ''observe the saying." 

Prudently retaining him at home until discre- 
tion should get the better of their anger, and re- 
turning reason convince them how unjust they 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 147 

had been to their younger brother, Jacob sent his 
eleven sons — whose flocks had so largely increas- 
ed that more extensive pasturage was required — 
to a place he had purchased, and in the neigh- 
borhood of a spot rendered memorable by the 
cruelties practiced in years past by two of them, 
Simeon and Levi — proud and vindictive men, 
who, in resenting an injury done to Dinah, their 
sister, by the son of the prince, not only wrought 
most summary vengeance upon the transgressor, 
but, by most unwarrantable fraud and treachery, 
slew all the male inhabitants while incapacitated 
for defence, and, with the aid of their brethren 
and domestics, pillaged the city. This latter cir- 
cumstance will account for Jacob's saying to Jo- 
seph, as if just calling to mind the transaction, and 
the deep detestation in which they were held by 
the remnant of the inhabitants of that region, 
'^ Do not thy brethren feed the flock in Shechem ? 
Come, and I will send thee unto them. Go, I pray 
thee, see whether it be well with thy brethren, 
and well with the flocks, and bring me word 
again." 

Answering the call with filial obedience, in 
deference to his father's commands, he starts in 



148 GEMS EROM THE SACRED MINE. 

quest of his brethren; and having been apprized 
by a stranger whom he met, or, as Maimonides 
will have it, by an angel in disguise, that they 
had removed about twenty miles farther north, 
he proceeds to Dothan, and ere long beholds in 
the distance, in beautiful contrast with the '' fields 
arrayed in living green," the white fleeces of the 
goodly flocks of Jacob. 

Alas ! little did he think, as he neared that 
group — all his own brethren, sprung from the 
same loins with himself, children of the same 
Israel — that they were even then engaged in a 
horrible conspiracy to murder him in cold blood, 
and then to go, with a wicked lie upon their lips, 
to the father who loved him so dearly, and tell 
him that ^'an evil beast" had devoured the son of 
his old age. Hesitation ripened into determina- 
tion as soon as they looked upon his garment of 
many colors, for with that sight rose the remem- 
brance of their father's preference for him, and 
his arrogant and presumptuous dreams. "And 
they said one to another. Behold, this dreamer 
cometh. Come now, therefore, and let us slay 
him, and cast him into some pit ; and we will say, 
Some evil beast hath devoured him ; and we shall 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 149 

see what will become of his dreams." There was 
one, however, in that group of iron-hearted men, 
who, in past time, by dishonoring his father, had 
forfeited his birthright, with all the privileges of 
primogeniture, who showed, nevertheless, on this 
occasion, a magnanimity which bespoke a heart 
not altogether dead to the sympathies of human- 
ity, or the holy yearnings of brotherhood. Pow- 
erless, however, among so many, and so many 
fierce and determined conspirators, feeling that 
immediate rescue was impossible, Reuben, for he 
it was, proposed that, instead of killing him at 
once, they should throw him into a dry pit near 
at hand — ^resolving at the same time, in his mind, 
he would return after they had gone, and, releas- 
ing the boy from his confinement, restore him 
again to the arms of the doting Jacob; and thus 
he left them, to arrange his plans for a rescue. 

Unconscious of the doom which awaits him, the 
young man approaches the group ; but the smile 
of glad recognition that played upon his lip dies 
into a compression of agony, the flush of excite- 
ment upon his cheek fades into a pallor of horror, 
when they arrest his warm embrace, and seize 
him, and tear from his shoulders his robe of vari- 



150 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

ous dyes, and hurry him to the brink of the pit. 
Who can imagine the wild burst of frantic grief 
that falls from his lips ? Who can describe that 
anguish of spirit, the memory of which conscience 
awoke in aftertimes in their bosoms (Gen. xlii. 21) 
when ''he besought them, and they would not 
hear," to spare him, if not for his own, at least 
for the sake of the old man whose happiness and 
peace were linked with his weal and wo? Ask 
the vulture to spare the tender lamb of the flock ! 
ask the whirlwind to give over its pitiless rage ! 
ask the stormy waters of the tumultuous sea to 
hear the mariner's cry, and cease to ruin and to 
wreck ; but pity and mercy ask not of those 
whose watchword is '' envy, hatred, malice, and all 
uncharitableness." He is flung rudely into the 
pit, after they have deprived him of the badge of 
his father's love and favor ; and, leaving him to 
a more painful death than immediate destruction, 
the slow tortures of starvation, with a cruel 
mockery of his situation, such only as incarnate 
devils could indulge, they sit down, in his hear- 
ing, to eat bread, as composedly as though con- 
science were dead, and remorse and retribution 
would never come. While they were thus regal- 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 151 

ing, a caravan, no unusual sight, appeared in the 
distance. The company was composed of Ish- 
maelite, Midianite, and Medanite merchants, jour- 
neying from Mount Gilead to Egypt, with spices, 
and balm, and myrrh. They traveled then, as at 
the present day, in large companies, not only for 
the purpose of making better purchases in great- 
er quantities, but to guard against attacks from 
wild beasts, as well as from surprises and assaults 
in the robber-haunted wilderness. Judah — a type, 
it would seem, in this instance, of Judas Iscariot — 
no sooner beheld these merchants approaching 
than his covetous heart at once suggested a mode 
by which he might display a mock humanity, and 
at the same time ^'put money in his purse.'' 
^^What profit is it," says he, ^^if we slay our 
brother, and conceal his blood ? Come, and let us 
sell him to the Ishmaelites, and let not our hand 
be upon him; for he is our brother, and our flesh." 
There was no profit in letting him die in the pit ; 
money might be made by selling him into slavery ! 
The honest heart cannot contemplate the propo- 
sition of the miserable, hypocritical sophist, '' Let 
us sell him, let not our hand be upon him, for he 
is our brother^ and our fleshy'' without indigna- 



152 GEMS EROM THE SACRED MINE. 

tion. He could, in the first instance, readily con- 
sent to his brother and his flesh being thrown like 
a dog into the pit — he could assist in tearing from 
him his coat of many colors — he could consent to 
leave him naked, to perish by slow degrees, with- 
out bread or water, and no pang thrill his stony 
heart ; but now that money may be made by sell- 
ing his ''brother' and his "fleshy'' with hypo- 
critical cant, he whines about imbruing their 
hands in blood. Specious villain-— patriarchal 
Jesuit ! Unwilling now that his brother should 
die, but perfectly willing that for twenty pieces of 
silver he should be sold as a slave to a race of 
men, whose renowned cruelty had passed into a 
proverb growing out of a prophecy — "fierce, sa- 
vage men, whose hands were against all men, and 
the hands of all men against them." "A right- 
eous man regardeth the life of his beast ;" Judah 
did not regard the life of his brother^ but showed 
by his conduct in selling him the truth of the 
aphorism, uttered by the lips of royal wisdom 
afterward, that "the tender mercies of the wicked 
are cruel." 

But why linger upon this sad portion of our 
story ? Why pause to mark that look, " more in 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 153 

sorrow than in anger," which Joseph casts upon his 
erring brethren as they "draw and lift him up 
out of the pit," and sell him, the free-born son of 
Jacob and Rachel, into slavery — a slave, and oh ! 
most ignominious, the servant and slave of the 
descendants of an Egyptian bondwoman! Why 
stop to count the tear-drops that well up from his 
almost broken heart to his dark imploring eyes, 
as they turn for the last time to gaze upon the sun 
sinking in the direction of the tents of Jacob ! 
Why watch the heavings of his young bosom as he 
turns in fancy to his father's house, the threshold 
of which he is to cross never more — never more ! 
It is a sad story, and we drop the pen, relieved 
of this portion of our task by the artist, who, in 
the expressive plate before us, has given us 

"All that imagination's power could trace 
Breathed in the penciFs imitative grace ; 
O'er all the canvas, form, and soul, and feeling 
That wondrous art infused with power of life, 
Portrayed each pulse, each passion's might revealing, 
Sorrow and joy, life, hatred, fear, and strife.'' 

From the Spanish. 

Leaving his brethren to their ill-gotten gains, 
Reuben to his disappointment at not finding him 



154 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

on his return to the pit; leaving Jacob to his 
sackcloth and mourning, and the fruitless efforts 
of his sons and daughters to comfort him, we 
turn to follow the fortunes of '^ the dreamer" 
into the strange land in which he makes his 
advent as a — slave. 

Sold by his first* purchasers to Potiphar (whose 
position, ofiice or duty under the King of Egypt 
is so variously stated — said by some to have been 
the royal cook, by others to have had the com- 
mand of state prisoners ; general of the troops, 
according to the Vulgate, chief of the exe- 
cutioners, according to the Hebrew — that we de- 
cline deciding the question), who was so well pleased 
with his new servant, and so well satisfied with his 
honesty, integrity, and ability, that that servant 
soon rose from his more subordinate situation to the 
superintendency of his master's whole household, 
whose confidence in him was so unlimited that, relin- 
quishing all care himself, '^ he knew not aught he 
had save the bread which he did eat." Again is 
the son of Jacob to be tried, and fearfully tried. 
Ten years have passed, and the lilies on his boyish 
cheeks have given place to the roses of manhood ; 
'' Time the consoler" has dried the tear-drops in 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREl^. 155 

his eyes, and they now glow with the deep beauty 
of their darkened hue. The rich curls that lay 
upon his pale brow now wave above a forehead 
lofty and noble, and the frail form of the stripling 
has rounded into the full proportions of the man: 
Yet that young man carries a brave heart within 
him, and if he submitted to his brethren ten years 
back, and still holds himself a slave of Potiphar, 
the lessons of purity learned from his mother's 
lips are remembered in the halls of Egypt, and his 
heart is strong to '' resist the devil," though clothed 
as an angel of light. Importuned day after day 
to sin, tempted day after day to crime, stern in 
his integrity, his invariable reply is, '' How can I 
do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" 
'' Hell, " says the poet, 

** Holds no fury like a woman scorned ;^' 

and when Potiphar's wife found she could not bend 
him from his virtuous purpose, when he fled from 
her presence, the fires of passion were extinguished 
in cold and unmitigated hate ; and, presenting his 
cloak to Potiphar, she charges Joseph with having 
betrayed his master's trust, and deeply and grossly 
insulted his mistress. We should be inclined to 



156 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

wonder that Potiphar in the first transport of rage 
did not sacrifice him at once, did we not discover, 
with St. Chrysostom, that ^'here again was a 
special, and as it were a miraculous intervention of 
the Divine power, which preserved his life, as it did 
before, when he was cast into the pit. The supe- 
rior influence which softened the heart of Reuben 
restrained the hand of Potiphar." Thrown into 
prison, he does not distrust Divine Providence, 
notwithstanding his seemingly untoward destiny. 
Our own Milton— we say our own, for we who glory 
in our Anglo-Saxon ancestry have common interest 
in the language in which he wrote — our own 
Milton has said, 

" The mind is its own place, and in itself 
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven ; 
What matter where, if I be still the same V^ 

And Joseph, who for his integrity is made to 
suffer, is the same in prison as when he was 
overseer in the house of Potiphar; and God 
gave him grace in the eyes of the keeper of 
the prison, and ^Hhe dreamer" has now given 
to him the interpretation of dreams. 

The chief butler and the chief baker of the 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 157 

King of Egypt have offended their royal master ; 
they are incarcerated in the same prison with 
Joseph ; they dream certain dreams — Joseph inter- 
prets them ; they are fulfilled as he told them, for 
the one is restored to his master's favor, the other 
is disgraced and executed. The chief butler 
promises to remember Joseph, and make mention 
of his name unto Pharaoh when he shall be rein- 
stated himself; yet his promise, like most of those 
made in the day of sorrow and adversity, is for- 
gotten in the day of his prosperity. Says the 
wise man, ^' There are many devices in a man's 
heart ; nevertheless the council of the Lord, that 
shall stand;" and Joseph's period of sorrow is 
drawing to a close, and a brighter day is about to 
dawn upon the sorely-tried son of Jacob. Pha- 
raoh himself has dreams that trouble him ; neither 
his wise men nor his magicians can interpret or 
unravel their meaning. The chief butler now re- 
members Joseph, and, speaking to his royal master, 
commends the Hebrew prisoner to his notice, and 
mentions the fact of his having interpreted his 
dream, and the dream of the chief baker in 
prison. He sends for the Hebrew, tells his 
dream, which Joseph unravels modestly, and 
11 



158 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

truly ascribing the power to God. "It is not in 
me; God shall give Pharaoh an answer of peace." 
Pharaoh's dream is interpreted to denote seven 
years of plenty and seven years of famine ; and 
he is told by Joseph that the reason 'Hhe dream 
is doubled unto Pharaoh twice is because the 
thing is established by God, and God will shortly 
bring it to pass." 

That day is the dawn of his prosperity ; that 
hour, and he mounts the tide that is to waft him 
to honor and to glory. That morning, when he 
turns his back upon the walls of an Egyptian 
prison, he steps forth to a succession of honors 
second only to the king himself. Noble reward 
of integrity ! The shepherd boy of Canaan, the 
" dreamer amid ' false brethren,' " the slave of the 
Ishmaelite, the prisoner in the dungeons of 
Egypt now wears the golden ring and chain — the 
gifts of royal favor — the linen vesture, and rides in 
a chariot next to the king; and the shouts of 
myriads are before him and around him, making 
proclamation, "Bow the knee, bow the knee;" 
and he hears from Pharaoh the words that must 
have thrilled him with emotions too powerful for 
language: "I am Pharaoh, and without thee shall 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 159 

no man lift up his hand or foot in all the land of 
Egypt.- 

Time passes on. The fields of that prolific 
country are rich and teeming with golden grain, 
and corn is as plentiful " as the sand of the sea ;" 
the Hebrew is viceroy of Egypt, first in royal 
favor, second only to the monarch of the realm, 
son-in-law to the priest of On, and called Zaph- 
nath-paaneah, prophetical of the coming of him 
who should indeed be the '' Saviour of the world." 
In the midst of this prosperity, Joseph never 
forgot the God of his fathers ; for we read that he 
named his two children Manasseh and Ephraim — 
the first because, as he says, " God hath made me 
to forget all my toil" and all the unkindness 
shown him in his father's house ; and the second, 
for ^'God hath caused me to be fruitful in the 
land of my affliction." 

And now famine comes down '^upon all the 
face of the earth," and if the store-houses of 
Pharaoh, under the direction of his viceroy, are 
groaning beneath their burden of grain, the 
accumulation of seven years of unparalleled 
plenty, his cofi'ers begin to overflow with the 
gold and silver of all lands, brought to the royal 



160 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

treasury in exchange for the corn of Egypt ; ^^ and 
all countries/' says the sacred historian, "came 
unto Egypt to Joseph for to buy corn, because 
that the famine was so sore in all lands." This 
famine spares not the land of Canaan, and the 
house of Jacob suffers with the rest of the inhabit- 
ants of that region ; and Jacob determines to send 
ten of his sons down into Egypt to purchase 
for their necessities. His youngest, the full 
brother of Joseph, in giving birth to whom his 
beloved Rachel had given up the ghost, naming 
with her dying lips the new-born child " Bennoni," 
the son of my sorrow, but subsequently changed 
by his father, who could not pronounce that name 
without keen and mournful memory of the death 
of his wife, to "Benjamin," the son of my right 
hand — this last link between the living and the 
dead, this parting pledge of wedded love he 
retains, "lest peradventure mischief should befall 
him;" while the rest, in pursuance of his orders, 
go down into Egypt to buy corn. As soon as 
they are brought into the presence of the viceroy, 
he recognizes them at once, while they, overawed 
by the august majesty of his appearance, and 
dazzled by the splendor of his regalia, trem- 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHKEN. 161 

blingly approach; and the sons of Jacob " came 
and bowed down themselves before him with their 
faces to the earth." The mind instinctively 
reverts to the dream of the shepherd boy of 
Canaan, and we can almost imagine, as Joseph 
remembers that dream, we hear him whispering 
to himself, in the stirring language of a modern 
bard, 

** I had a vision in my sleep 
That gave my spirit strength to sweep 
Adown the gulf of time ;'' 

for, lo ! there is the fulfilment of the symbolic 
vision — ''My sheaf arose, and stood upright ; and, 
behold, your sheaves stood around about, and made 
obeisance to my sheaf." And that taunting 
question, asked in years gone by, " Shalt thou 
indeed reign over us ? or shalt thou indeed have 
dominion over us?" receives its first answer in 
the proud old halls of Egypt, when, clothed in the 
splendid habiliments of office, far outvieing the 
coat of many colors, he stands erect, the sunlight 
flashing upon his jeweled signet ring, the chain 
of gold hanging in curious wrought links about 
his person, subservient courtiers obeying his nod, 
while those who asked that question, with lips 



162 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

curled with sneers and wreathed with scorn, now 
tremblingly and submissively bow before him, 
saying, ^'Nay, my Lord^ but to buy food are thy 
servants gothqV The whole scene is highly dra- 
matic, and no uninspired pencil may hope to do it 

justice. 

Without revealing himself to his brethren, he 

learns the history of his father's house since his 
absence ; and, yearning to see Benjamin, he avails 
himself of a harmless stratagem to obtain the ful- 
filment of his desire. He charged them with being 
spies ; and, pretending to doubt their report, he 
demanded that Benjamin should be brought down 
to Egypt, and, as a hostage for their fulfilment 
of this requisition, detained Simeon. Then it was 
that sleeping conscience awoke in their bosoms ; 
then they remembered that scene in Dothan, and, 
in the courts of Pharaoh, the sin they had com- 
mitted in Canaan '*^ found them out;" and, with 
one accord, unconscious that they were in the 
presence of him they had sold as a slave, they 
made full confession of their crime: ''They said 
one to another. We are verily guilty concerning 
our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his 
soul when he besought us, and we would not 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 163 

hear." Ay, long before any writer had ever penned 
a line upon the '^ moral government of God as 
displayed in rewards and punishments^^' did the 
sons of Jacob come to the just conclusion, ^^ there- 
fore is this distress come upon us." Like the 
terror-stricken King of Babylon when he saw the 
handwriting ^'over against the candlestick upon 
the wall," like Herod when he heard 'Hhe fame 
of Jesus," and thought the murdered baptist 
had come back to haunt him for his crime, con- 
science spoke out in thunder tones to their guilty 
hearts, and words of self-condemnation fell from 
their guilty lips. " Verily," says the Psalmist, 
" He is a God that judgeth in the earth." Little, 
in that hour, did those self-condemned brothers 
think that he who conversed with them through 
an interpreter was Joseph; little did they dream 
that that seemingly stern Viceroy of Egypt, when 
he averted his head, was weeping tears of gratitude 
to God, tears of forgiveness for those who had 
sought his blood, and sold him into bondage for 
twenty pieces of silver ! 

We pass on to the return of the nine brethren ; 
their finding each man his money in his sack ; 
their report to their father ; the old man's upbraid- 



164 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

ings ; Reuben's generous pledge of his two sons if 
he did not return Benjamin safely to him again if 
he would allow him to go down with them into 
Egypt ; his refusal ; Judah's chivalry (for the first 
time displaying greatness of character) in promising 
to protect the lad with his life, and old Jacob's hard 
wrung consent to part with Benjamin, and again 
we find them in Egypt, explaining to the steward of 
Joseph's house how that they had found the money 
they had brought the first time to purchase grain 
with in their sacks, and had brought it back 
again as an evidence of their honesty ; and, re- 
ceiving assurance from the man that everything so 
far was right, they prepared for an interview 
with the viceroy, who, they understand, is about 
condescendingly to allow them to eat bread in his 
presence. As soon as he appeared, they again do 
^'obeisance'' to him, bowing themselves to him 
to the earth. 

We feel how inadequate is our pen to do jus- 
tice to this scene, and dropping it at this point we 
let the sacred narrative speak for itself. "And 
he asked them of their welfare, and said. Is your 
father well, the old man of whom ye spake ? Is 
he yet alive ?" With what trembling solicitude 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 165 

does he await their reply. '' And they answered. 
Thy servant our father is in good health, he is 
yet alive : and they bowed down their heads, and 

\ made obeisance." When the young '' dreamer'* 
in Canaan told his dream of the suii, moon, and 
eleven stars making obeisance to him, even Jacob 
himself replied, " Shall I and thy mother, and thy 
brethren, indeed come to bow down ourselves to 
thee to the earth ?" And, in the scene before us, 
we hear the sons of Jacob speaking of him, no 
doubt as he had directed them, as 'Hhy servant 
our father;'' and, in making obeisance on this 

' occasion, they do it in the name of the whole 
household. Behold, then, the fulfilment of the 
second vision of ^' the dreamer," and " see what" 
has '' become of his dreams !" To his pen who 
went up in after times to the mount of God, and 
whose spirit drank in inspiration from the imme- 
diate presence of the Eternal, we resign the con- 
clusion of the story of Joseph and his brethren ; 
for it is meet and proper we should yield the 
task to him of describing their advent who was 
himself to be their leader in their exode from 
bondage, of those whose seed God had said 
'^ I will make nations of thee, and kings shall 



166 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

come out of thee.'' ^^ And he lifted up his eyes, 
and saw his brother Benjamin, his mother's son, 
and said, Is this your younger brother, of whom 
ye spake unto me ? And he said, God be gracious 
unto thee, my son. And Joseph made haste ; for 
his bowels did yearn upon his brother : and he 
sought where to weep ; and he entered into his 
chamber, and wept there. And he washed his 
face, and went out, and refrained himself, and 
said. Set on bread. . . . But Benjamin's mess 
was five times so much as any of theirs. And they 
drank, and were merry with him." Having dis- 
missed them, and given his steward instructions 
how to proceed in order to have them brought back, 
namely, to put his cup in Benjamin's sack and then 
to charge them with the theft, and bring them 
before him for trial, at which time he designs to 
make the discovery of himself to them, he remains 
in his own apartments to await the issue. The 
cup of course is found in Benjamin's possession, 
and the sorely-stricken sons of Jacob appeared 
once more, but in humbled plight before one whom 
Judah, in his pathetic and impassioned appeal, 
styles ''even as Pharaoh." ''And Judah and 
his brethren came to Josepli's house (for he was, 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHKEN. 167 

yet there :) and they fell before him on the ground. 
And Joseph said unto them, What deed is this 
that ye have done ? wot ye not that such a man as 
I can certainly divine?" It is one beautiful trait 
in the character of man that though in the 
thought of the poet ^' the trail of the serpent" 
is even to be seen amid the '^ flowers of Eden." 
yet that he still inherits some of those flowers in 
his heart, few and dwarfed though they be, to tell 
us that once he was indeed in the '' likeness and 
image" of his God. Judah, the once pitiless, 
sordid, avaricious Judah, now stands forth as 
spokesman for the rest, and pleads, eloquently 
pleads in behalf of him who, under present ap- 
pearances, is about to become the bondman of 
Pharaoh's viceroy. '' And Judah said. What 
shall we say unto my lord ? what shall we speak ? 
or how shall we clear ourselves ? Grod hath found 
out the iniquity of thy servants'' — here clearly 
referring to the sale of Joseph to the Ishmaelites, 
and to this as a visitation of God upon them for 
their crime — '' behold we are my lord's servants, 
both we, and he also with whom the cup is found." 
And he [Joseph] said, "- God forbid that I should 
do so : but the man in whose hand the cup is 



168 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

found, he shall be my servant ; and as for you, get 
you up in peace unto your father." We can almost 
forgive Judah the errors of his former life, as we 
look upon him on the present occasion, and hear 
him before the Viceroy of Egypt, pleading, elo- 
quently pleading in behalf of Benjamin. Says 
the pious Matthew Henry, " His address here 
recorded is so very natural, so expressive of his 
feelings, that we cannot but suppose Moses, 
who wrote it so long after, to have written it 
under the special direction of Him that made 
man's mouth.'' ^' No man," says the excellent 
Thomas Scott, '^ no man of the least taste or 
sensibility can read it without emotion. Indeed, 
the whole speech is exquisitely beautiful, and 
perhaps the most complete pattern of genuine 
natural eloquence extant in any language." We 
give the whole then in the words of Divine Inspi- 
ration. " Then Judah came near unto him, and 
said, my lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, speak 
a word in my lord's ears, and let not thine anger 
burn against thy servant : for thou art even as 
Pharaoh. My lord asked his servants, saying, 
Have ye a father, or a brother ? And we said unto 
my lord, We have a father, an old man, and a 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 169 

child of his old age : a little one, and his brother 
is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and 
his father loveth him. And thou saidst unto thy 
servants, Bring him down unto me, that I may set 
mine eyes upon him. And we said unto my lord, 
The lad cannot leave his father : for if he should 
leave his father, his father would die. And thou 
saidst unto thy servants. Except your youngest 
brother come down with you, ye shall see my 
face no more. And it came to pass, when we 
came up unto thy servant my father, we told him 
the words of my lord. And our father said. Go 
again, and buy us a little food. And we said. We 
cannot go down : if our youngest brother be with 
us, then will we go down ; for we may not see the 
man's face, except our youngest brother be with 
us. And thy servant my father said unto us, Te 
know that my wife bare me two sons : and the one 
went out from me, and I said. Surely he is torn in 
pieces ; and I saw him not since ; and if ye take 
this also from me, and mischief befall him, ye shall 
bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the 
grave. Now, therefore, when I come to thy ser- 
vant my father, and the lad be not with us; (see- 
ing that his life is bound up in the lad's life ;) it 



170 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is 
not with us, that he will die, and thy servants 
shall bring down the gray hairs of thy servant 
our father with sorrow to the grave. For thy 
servant became surety for the lad unto my father, 
saying. If I bring him not unto thee, then I shall 
bear the blame to my father for ever. Now, 
therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant abide in- 
stead of the lad a bondman to my lord ; and let the 
lad go up with his brethren. For how shall I go up 
to my father, and the lad be not with me ? lest 
peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my 
father." 

There was something so touching, so eloquent, 
so moving, so self-sacrificing so noble in this ad- 
dress of Judah, that '^Joseph could not refrain 
himself before all them that stood by him ; and he 
cried. Cause every man to go out from me. And 
there stood no man with him, while Joseph made 
himself known unto his brethren. And he wept 
aloud ; and the Egyptians and the house of Pha- 
raoh heard. And Joseph said unto his brethren, 
I am Joseph ! doth my father yet live ? And his 
brethren could not answer him ; for they were 
troubled at his presence. And Joseph said unto 
his brethren, Come near unto me, I pray you : 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 171 

and they came near : and he said, I am Joseph your 
brother, whom ye sold into Egypt." "^It is impos- 
sible," says one, ^' that the tongue, the pen, or the 
pencil can ever do justice to the mixed emotions 
of surprise, fear, grief, remorse, hope, natural affec- 
tion and joy which must alternately, yet almost 
at the same instant, have seized on their minds at 
this unexpected discovery." Relieving them with 
characteristic generosity from the distressing em- 
barrassment which the scene had placed them in, 
and willing to banish the painful memory of that 
day when for twenty pieces of silver they had sold 
him as a bondman into I]gypt^ he assures them 
that the hand of God was in the matter, and giving 
them directions to hasten back to Canaan and bring 
up Jacob and all their families to dwell in the land 
of Goshen, and bidding them to behold and see 
that it was indeed their brother with whom they 
were conversing, he says, "- Ye shall tell my father 
of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have 
seen : and ye shall haste, and bring down my father 
hither. And he fell upon his brother. Benjamin's 
neck, and wept ; and Benjamin wept upon his neck. 
Moreover, he kissed all his brethren, and wept 
upon them ; and after that his brethren talked with 



172 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

him." Hastening on the intermediate details of 
Pharaoh's seconding the invitation given by 
Joseph, Joseph's presents to his brethren, and 
his admonition to them not ^' to fall out by the 
way," we find them once more at home in the land 
of Canaan, in the presence of their father, de- 
tailing the marvelous incidents connected with 
their last visit to Egypt. ''And they told him, 
saying, Joseph is yet alive, and he is governor 
over all the land of Egypt !" Poor old man ! we 
cannot wonder that paleness came over his fur- 
rowed cheek, and trembling at his heart; the ac- 
count was too good to be true, and '' he believed 
them not. ' ' And then ' ' they told him all the words 
of Joseph, which he had said unto them : and when 
he saw the wagons which Joseph had sent to 
carry him, the spirit of Jacob their father revived." 
The cup of the old man's rejoicing was full, and, as 
it trembled to overflowing, we hear him exclaim- 
ing, in the fullness of that joy which no words 
can describe, ''It is enough ; Joseph my son is 
yet alive: I will go and see him before I die!" 
Our story draws to its close ; the aged patriarch 
once more folds to his bosom his long lost, long 
mourned son, and the inspired writer could have 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 173 

found no words more simple or beautiful than those 
with which he describes this event, when he says of 
Joseph, " He fell on his neck, and wept on his neck 
a good while! And Israel said unto Joseph, Now 
let me die, since I have seen thy face, because thou 
art yet alive !" We close our brief and imperfect 
sketch at this point, because we would not trespass 
upon the reader, and because we would not will- 
ingly any farther mar the inimitable beauty of the 
narrative, told as it is with all the naivete of truth, 
by our own crude interpolations. Ample justice 
has been done by the artist to the subject, and if 
we have succeeded, in our hurried attempt at 
illustration, in awakening sufficient interest in 
those who shall gaze upon the picture, to read the 
whole history in the Bible, we shall not regret 
having laid ourselves open to the censures of cri- 
ticism in attempting 

" To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
To throw a perfume on the violet, 
To smooth the ice, or add another hue 
Unto the rainbow/' 

The story, as we read it from the pen of Moses, is 
replete with interest ; and we learn from the whole 
the truth of the aphorism with which we conj- 
12 



174 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE. 

menced, that if "Man proposes, God disposes." 
Who could have seen the end from the beginning 
of the life of Joseph ? — the Hebrew shepherd, the 
slave of the Ishmaelite, the servant of Potiphar, the 
prisoner in Egypt — the prime minister of the land 
of science and of art^ standing among the proudest 
monuments of old, the noblest monument of them all 
—a monument of the unsearchable wisdom of Grod! 
Thebes has gone to ruin, and " the melancholy 
ghosts of dead renown" glide where once echoed 
the footsteps of Pythagoras, as with the ardor of 
youth he undertook the study of the nature 
of the gods, and the immortality of the soul. 
Memphis, where the great Thales studied geo- 
metry under her priests, has passed away, leaving 
her very site in doubt. Heliopolis, with its fount- 
ain of the sun, is not; and the city in which the 
great Solon was first taught in the principles of 
legislation and the theory of government is among 
the things that were, and yet the land of Misriam 
has linked her name to immortality, for it was here 
that Zaphnath Paaneah met his brethren. It was 
here that that great nation was cradled, to whom 
was promised in Abraham that they should be as 
multitudinous as the sea-side sands, as countless as 



JOSEPH SOLD BY HIS BRETHREN. 175 

the stars of heaven ! It was here that he, who went 
forth from his father's home a shepherd boy in 
Canaan, rose to be prime minister of the most 
virtuous Pharaoh that ever sat uponthe throne, and 
received at the hands and at the lips of that father 
dying in Egypt the fullest and largest blessing 
(save one) vouchsafed to the house of Israel. 
'^ The blessings of thy father have prevailed above 
the blessings of my progenitors, unto the utmost 
bound of the everlasting hills : they shall be on the 
head of Joseph, and on the crown of the head of 
him that was separate from his brethren," even 
him who was sold hy Ms hretJiren for twenty pieces 
of silver. 



176 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



EASTER SUNDAY. 

BY THE REV. C. M. BUTLER, D. D. 

Oh blessed and bright is the Easter day 

That Cometh in early spring, 
When the first flowers win through the ground 
their way. 

And the birds merrily sing. 
'Tis the fresh spring-time, when life from death 

Doth leap with gladsome birth ; 
And o'er the dead world come awakening breath — 

'Tis the Easter day of earth ! 

Rejoice ! rejoice ! The Saviour hath risen 

From the dark and noisome tomb ; 
To roll the stone from his rocky prison, 

Angels from heaven have come. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! for there's joy in heaven, 

And there's mad chagrin in hell ; 



EASTEE SUNDAY. 177 

For the blest now know that man's ransom is 
given, 
And the fiends do know as well ! 

Oh ! blessed and bright is the Easter day. 

For our Saviour's pains are o'er ; 
Escaped from the curse of our sins away. 

He will bleed for us no more. 
And he shall go up with a merry noise, 

And his saints shall with him go ; 
And they all shall drink of the deathless joys 

That from God their fountain flow. 

Oh ! blessed and bright is the Easter day : 

It tells us that we shall rise. 
And shall join the Lord when his bright array 

Comes flashing along the skies. 
For the dry seed springs, and the dead flowers 
bloom, 

And man, like his Maker made. 
Shall rise from the dust of the narrow tomb. 

In glory angelic arrayed ! 



178 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME 
MAN AT THE BEAUTIFUL GATE OF 
THE TEMPLE. 

BY THE RIGHT REY. J. JOHNS, BISHOP OF YIRGINIA. 

The narrative of this miracle is so graphically 
given that we can scarcely realize that we are 
merely pursuing the statement of another. We 
seem to gaze ourselves on the transaction, and to 
become cognizant of the events recorded, not 
through testimony, but by actual vision. The place, 
the hour, the character of the persons concerned, 
the nature of the work, the discourse for which it 
furnished occasion, and the blessed result, are all 
of deep interest, and are related with admirable 
simplicity and sweetness. 

The scene is in the city of Jerusalem, and in 
the court of the house of the Lord — a spot early 
consecrated by divine manifestation, and hallowed 
by the sacred associations of many centuries. 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN. 179 

The splendid temple erected there by Solomon 
had indeed, long since, shared the fate of the 
captive city, and disfigured by its unsightly ruins 
the summit which it had conspicuously adorned. 
After the restoration of the Jews by the decree 
of Cyrus, a second temple was, with much diflB- 
culty, raised on the same sight. But a company 
of impoverished exiles just returning to a wasted 
land were not able to rival the magnificence of 
the royal architecture; and so great was the 
inferiority of this building that the aged men who 
had seen the first in its glory, were affected to 
tears by the contrast. This second temple, how- ^ 
ever, was destined, after many changes, to be 
renewed with considerable splendor. Strange to 
relate, this was effected by the agency of one who 
was of foreign extraction, destitute of sympathy 
with the Jewish nation, and utterly devoid of 
religious principles. Herod the Great, who was 
indebted to the Roman Senate for his crown, who 
had fought his way to the throne, and kept it by 
crime and cruelty almost incredible, at last found 
it expedient to conciliate the people whom his 
violence had alienated. With this view, as well 
as to gratify his own fondness for architecture, 



180 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

lie commenced "with great liberality, and on an 
extensive scale, repairing the temples of Jerusa- 
lem. The grand entrance from the court of the 
Gentiles to the court of Israel, which formed the 
principal passage for the people to the places 
specially appointed for the services of religion, 
he adorned with great taste and princely magni- 
ficence. This was ^' the Beautiful Gate," so 
called, as Josephus informs us, because its fold- 
ing-doors with their lintel and pillars were over- 
laid with massive plates of Corinthian brass, 
elaborately ornamented with appropriate sculp- 
ture. Through this Beautiful Gate, the devout 
inhabitants of Jerusalem and foreign Jews who 
visited the Holy City entered into the court of 
the Israelites, ^'to serve the Lord with gladness 
and come before his presence with a song." 
Twice daily did 'Hhe great congregation" there 
assemble. There was not, therefore, in all Jeru- 
salem, a spot more frequently trodden than the 
pavement of the Beautiful Gateway, or traversed 
by persons who might be supposed more ready to 
every good work. But there was one habitually 
there who was neither attracted by the magnifi- 
cence of the structure nor drawn by the prospect 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN. 181 

of advancing with the people to engage in the 
imposing services of the sanctuary. Beside the 
broad base of one of the splendid columns, and in 
striking contrast with its stately strength and 
rich adornments, ''^ there sat a certain man, 
lame from his mother's womb." Without patri- 
mony on which to depend for his subsistence, 
and disabled by his natural infirmity from labor- 
ing for his maintenance, he was poor as well as 
lame. ^' Forty years" of helplessness and 
penury had left their sad impress on his afflicted 
person. His case, so far as human means were 
concerned, had proved a hopeless one, and he 
was left to rely for support on the pittance 
which his miserable appearance might obtain 
from the hand of common charity. The few 
immediately interested for him appear to have 
been in like poverty with himself. They did for 
him all in their power, when they conveyed him 
regularly, at proper hours, to a place of con- 
course that his pitiable condition might appeal to 
the sympathy of the people. They " daily carried 
and laid him at the gate of the temple called Beau- 
tiful, to ask alms of them that entered into the 
temple." 



182 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

It was now "the ninth hour," and the stream 
of worshipers was moving through the Beautiful 
Gate into the court of Israel to engage in 
^'prayer." 

In that crowd, there were two persons of pecu- 
liar interest to every Christian, "Peter and 
John," chosen companions and witnesses of Jesus 
of Nazareth, selected to attend him on several 
occasions of special importance. They were two 
of the three who were with him on the Mount of 
Transfiguration, and at the raising of Jairus' 
daughter, and near him during his agony in the 
garden. But how is their presence here to be 
explained? They were of the little band to 
whom Jesus had said, " All ye shall be offended 
because of me this night; for it is written, 'I 
will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be 
scattered.'" And when the predicted offence 
occurred, "they all forsook him and fled;" even 
after his mighty resurrection, they assembled 
with studied concealment, and conferred with 
doors closed, for fear of the Jews. And dare they 
now venture to mingle with the very populace on 
whose hands the blood of their Master was scarce 
dry, and whose loud and bitter execrations of 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN. 183 

him and his disciples had not yet died away! 
To the eye of worldly prudence, such exposure 
would look like the extreme of infatuation, and 
the change of feeling which could prompt to it 
would be inexplicable. 

The recent extraordinary occurrences on the 
memorable day of Pentecost furnished the key 
to their conduct, and explain that transition in 
the state of their mind in which it originated. 
They had received 'Hhe promise of the Father," 
and had been " endued with power from on high.'' 
By this effusion of the Holy Ghost, they were 
fitted for the faithful and fearless performance of 
the responsible service for which they had been 
ordained. And now, intent only on duty, and 
leaving events to God, they sought opportunity 
to preach Jesus and the resurrection, beginning, 
as they were directed, at Jerusalem. 

Not, therefore, to engage in the now obsolete 
service of the Jewish economy, but to seek occasion 
for publishing the message with which they were 
entrusted, did "Peter and John" join themselves 
to the multitude moving towards the temple at 
"the hour of prayer." 

As they reached the Beautiful Gate, the pal- 



184 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

lid, penury-stricken cripple lifted his voice and 
^^ asked an alms/' little knowing to whom he 
appealed, or what would be the effect of his appli- 
cation. 

Acting, no doubt, as they were inwardly moved 
by the Holy Ghost, the apostles turned to the 
helpless suppliant, and '^ Peter, fastening his eyes 
on him, with John," said, "Look on us." The 
peculiar manner of the speaker and the tone of his 
address determined the man to instant obedience. 
" He gave heed unto them, expecting to receive 
something of them." This very natural hope was, 
however, destined to disappointment, and yet to be 
exceeded far beyond all he could have promised 
himself. The wealth of this world, the apostles 
neither possessed themselves, nor were they em- 
powered to bestow on others. Peter, therefore, 
promptly declared, "Silver and gold have I none." 
But these words had scarcely fallen from his lips to 
sink the poor man's spirits, when they were follow- 
ed by language that must have perplexed, though 
it revived his expectation. " Such as I have," said 
Peter, " give I thee." Nor did he leave the anxious 
listener to more than momentary suspense. Full 
of the spirit of his glorious mission, and with divine 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN. 185 

faith in vigorous action, he said, '^ In the name 
of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk," 
at the same time, taking the languid cripple '^ by 
the right hand." — What a spectacle ensued! 
Limbs which from their birth, for now forty 
years, had been misshapen, disabled and useless, 
received their proper form, strength, and activity. 
At the apostle's bidding, in an instant, the 
hitherto helpless beggar was on his feet as firmly 
as if they had never been impotent. Standing 
and leaping in his new vigor and agility, and now 
moving with the people into the court of Israel, 
''praising God," whose power he at once recog- 
nized in his amazing relief. 

It would be vain to attempt a description of 
this man's experience in the quick process of his 
''healing." No one can even conceive his feel- 
ings under the sudden energy of the apostle's 
address, and the strange vigor which attended 
the apostle's grasp, and the creative power in 
action on his own crippled limbs, and the myste- 
rious starting up within him of a volition to do 
what he had often desired but never even dreamed 
of, walking — and yet now performed as soon as 
essayed and as easily as if accustomed to it from 



186 GEMS FROM THE SACKED MINE. 

childhood. To find himself, after forty years of 
hopeless impotency, at once on his feet, standing 
without support, and walking as other men walked, 
it is not surprising that he could scarce contain 
himself, that he leaped for joy, delighting to exer- 
cise his new energies, and to realize to himself and 
manifest to others the wonderful work which had 
been wrought. And how perfectly natural to see 
him clinging to the apostles, unwilling to be sepa- 
rated from them, lest, on their departure, he 
might relapse into the condition of wretchedness 
from which he had been raised ! 

The rumor of this wonderful occurrence spread 
rapidly through the assembly in the court, and 
brought multitudes around the man who had been 
healed and his unknown benefactors. Well might 
the crowd thus gathered regard the apostles 
with" intense earnestness and superstitious awe, as 
persons of extraordinary piety and supernatural 
power. How propitious such a moment for pur- 
poses of artful impostors, whose selfish hearts were 
set on their own worldly aggrandizement ! Under 
such circumstances, Peter and John's prompt and 
decided disclaimance of all personal pretensions 
to the honor of the work, and their zealous 



PETER AND JOHN HEALING THE LAME MAN. 187 

ascription of all the glory to Jesus of Nazareth, 
is a manly proof of their integrity, not to be mis- 
taken. And then to find them, instead of being 
captivated and absorbed by the wonderful effects 
thus associated with their ministry, intent solely 
upon rendering the miracle subservient to the 
cause of their Master, fully establishes their sin- 
gle-hearted fidelity. Nor in this connection should 
the noble and intrepid discourse of Peter be over- 
looked. It is in fine keeping with the occasion, 
and worthy of one who seems to have been 
specially trained for 'Hhe initiative" in the great 
work of evangelizing the world. 

There is one general remark suggested by this 
subject. The miracles performed by Jesus and by 
his apostles in his name are different, essentially, 
palpably different from all the deceptive wonders 
which artful impostors have endeavored to palm 
upon the credulity of the superstitious. A fair spe- 
cimen of the genuine works of God in attestation 
of the Gospel of Christ is furnished by this relief 
of the lame man at the Beautiful Gate of the 
temple. 

This deed was not done in darkness or privacy, 
but under the clear light of the sun, and in a 



188 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

place of unsurpassed publicity. It was not per- 
formed in the presence of those only whose inte- 
rest, or partiality would predispose them to pro- 
nounce it a miracle without such scrutiny as was 
requisite to determine its reality, but before 
those who bitterly hated the cause it was intended 
to sustain, and who were committed to persecute 
to death the men by whose instrumentality it was 
wrought. The individual alleged to have been 
relieved was not an intimate of the apostles and 
a stranger to the people; he was unknown to 
Peter and John, but familiar in his person and 
affliction to the multitudes who frequented the 
temple. There was therefore no possibility of 
collusion in the case. The irregular formation 
and impotency of the man's limbs were not a 
mere matter of morbid imagination, or the effect 
of some bodily disease or accident, which might 
be removed by physical means : he was a cripple 
from his birth, and had been so for forty years. 
His lameness, therefore, was notoriously invete- 
rate. No medicaments or appliances of any kind 
which might have been suspected of possessing 
inherent power to heal were employed ; the relief 
was entirely without natural means. It was not 



PETER AND JOHN HEALINQ THE LAME MAN. 189 

attained at last, after several ineffectual experi- 
ments, and slow in its progress to completion ; it 
was simultaneous with the command, and instanta- 
neously perfect ; and that, not only in the exact 
configuration which the hitherto misshapen limbs 
received, but also in the ability to exercise at 
once those appropriate powers which, naturally, 
are attained only by protracted experiment. 

In view of a work bearing these characters, 
even a prejudiced Jewish council were constrained 
to say ^' that^ indeed^ a notable miracle hath been 
done by these men^ is WMnifest to all who dwell in 
Jerusalem^ and we cannot deny it^ 



13 



190 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



THE TABLES OF THE LAW. 

BY THE REV. HENRY V. D. JOHNS, D. D. 

The plate illustrating these remarks presents 
a scene of unsurpassed magnificence, and an 
event wliich may be regarded as the grandest 
transaction in what Chalmers calls 'Hhe most 
miraculous period in the known history of the 
world." 

The time, place, and circumstances were all in 
keeping with the act, so momentous and preg- 
nant in influence upon the whole future destiny 
of man, and are all impressive and instructive. 
The time was the youth of the church. Ages, it 
is true, had passed since ^'the morning stars sang 
together, and the sons of God shouted for joy,'' 
as they beheld the results of creative power. But 
still more were to follow; and in view of the 
pupilage of man's moral nature, it was yet but 
the dawn, as it were, of the great day of the 
moral administration of the world. 




^^ 



'/rya^' Im 



^/- M^' ^J//: 



THE TABLES OF THE LAW. 191 

The place was peculiarly adapted to the event, 
portrayed by the pencil of our artist. A bald 
rock, amid the solitudes of Arabia ! Why did 
Jehovah select such a spot for his legislative 
chamber ? 

There were the splendid piles of Egypt's colos- 
sal architecture, chiseled by workmen of exqui- 
site skill, and ornamented with everything which 
human fancy could impart. There was the stately 
apartment of the pyramid of Cheops, almost un- 
earthly in its massive finish ; or its apex, a most 
suitable rostrum, human wisdom would have said, 
for just such an act as the giving of the universal 
law ! Why did not the Almighty, by angel 
heralds, assemble the nations, and, when He had 
mirrored the Nile with a scene of majestic array 
never before witnessed, promulgate his edicts in a 
voice of thunder, or write them in letters brighter 
than the rainbow upon the blue vault of heaven ? 

The only answer is, it pleased not the Supreme 
to have it so. Even under the dispensation of 
the law, therefore, we cannot fail to mark that, in 
his highest acts of royal power, God takes no 
note of human aid. The wild simplicity of 
nature, the unadorned magnificence of Horeb, 



192 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

draped around with clouds, and festooned with 
constant flashes of lightnings are a fit hall for the 
solemn transaction of unsheathing the '^ Sword of 
the Spirit," now to be placed in mortal hands. 

Is it not proper to observe, in the place thus 
chosen for the giving of the law, a foreshadowing 
of a great principle, which our Lord more clearly 
enunciated in his interview with the woman of 
Samaria? ^' God is a spirit, and they who 
worship him, must worship him in spirit and in 
truth." 

See we not, also, that the grand acts of God 
are most evidently so when they stand out, 
isolated, as it were, of all human trappings ? Oh ! 
how much more imposing is the legislation of 
Sinai, thus made amid the solitudes of nature, 
than it would have been if set forth in the most 
ornate structure that art could have provided, 
so true is it that simplicity is a large element in 
all that is really sublime ! It is not the labored 
turgid sentence that stirs the deep fountains of 
the human soul, but the Horeb-like power of a 
bold rich thought, salient from the electric soul, 
symbol of Deity. 

The circumstances of the occasion were also 



THE TABLES OF THE LAW. 193 

in unison with the mighty event, of which Moses 
was the solitary witness. 

Hundreds of thousands of human beings, who 
had for years toiled and groaned in galling servi- 
tude, were now breathing the fresh and vitalizing 
air of freedom. The human soul, bound down 
by oppression, is now emancipated ; and here was 
the season for exhibiting that great truth, that 
law and liberty are indissoluble associates, really 
sustaining to each other the relation of parent 
and child. As the granulated tablet yielded be- 
fore the finger of the divine legislator, writing 
down the celestial code, and Israel, in the person 
of their illustrious leader, received the ^4iving 
oracle," was it not clearly intimated that, stony 
as was the nature of man, the law should pene- 
trate it, and there remain; first, as ^*^our school- 
master," giving the knowledge of sin, and after- 
wards, as the instrument of sanctification, disci- 
plining the host of God for the land of Canaan ? 
how needful ! just that knowledge and subse- 
quent training for the sons of the patriarchs, 
emerging from the idolatory and sensualism of 
Egypt! 



194 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

How equally indispensable in every age for 
the rescued captives of sin and death ! 

What Scripture terms the "glorious liberty of 
the sons of God/' is guaranteed to the soul of 
man, when the commandment comes and the con- 
victed sinner dies to self and the love of sin; 
abandons all fancied strength of unchanged 
nature, and, beneath the terrific smitings of the 
celestial blade of temper true, even the sword 
of the spirit, sinks down before God, and exclaims, 

" Save, Lord, or I perish/' 

Oh ! it is then, when the soul perceives the length 
and breadth of the law, that power is given to 
become one of the '' sons of God" — the soul being 
led to Christ and born of the Holy Ghost. 
Henceforth, Sinai having sent the sinner to 
Calvary, ceases to be an object of terror. Its 
flashes of light are but as lamps of salvation, the 
pillar of fire, amid the night journey of subse- 
quent life, brightening with glowing holiness its 
darkest hours, and solving by most expressive 
beams the mystery of the cross of Christ. The 
law is now the subject of the new-born sinner's 
anthems. He loves it, and, Avith the psalmist. 



THE TABLES OF THE LAW. 195 

sings its praise. Thus, whilst the law brought 
liberty and purity to ancient Israel, it still con- 
fers by its mighty instrumentality the same un- 
speakable blessings ; and as the believer ascends 
the mount of God and listens to the deep-toned 
echoes of Sinai, his prayer is, " Lord, make me 
holy as thou art holy, and pure as thou art pure !" 

Such are a few of the great truths which are 
associated with the scene of the giving of the law 
to Moses. Nor is it venturing too far to say that 
this is one, and the giving of the lamb of God 
is the other, of the two grand provisions of God, 
for saving man. Without the knowledge of sin, 
who ever goes to Christ ? Without Christ as a 
Saviour, what could the law do, but drive the soul 
to frenzy and madness ? 

Over and above the teaching truths, associated 
with the time, the place and the circumstances of 
the event we have been viewing, presenting us 
with noble ideas of the grandeur of religious 
principles, most grand when most detached from 
human appendages, and left alone in their native 
glory; over and above that granite-like senti- 
ment, so dear to the heart of the American, 
^'law and liberty," mutually aiding and protect- 



196 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

ing each other, the sword of the law, but not the 
sceptre of the despot, as the guardian of our 
rights, as we have seen, heaven-derived in its 
origin, the mortal foe of tyranny and oppression, 
the staunch supporter of human liberty over the 
face of the whole earth, the finely-penciled 
picture on our page is a silent preacher of Christ. 
The law, what is it but the manifested love of 
God in another form ? For even when it wounds, 
it wounds but to heal. When it arrests our way- 
ward nature, it is the grappling-hook of infinite 
pity, plucking brands from the everlasting burn- 
ing. I wonder not, therefore, that the Almighty 
concealed the grave of his servant Moses, and 
also the exact likeness of the face of the Son of 
Man. So vast are the obligations of the world 
to both the type and the antetype, that if the 
precise spot where Moses sleeps were known, or 
the exact countenance of Christ was on canvass, 
or on marble, our reason might have been too 
weak for superstition. 

How wise the plans of God. We now, with 
profound and rational piety, gaze on Moses the 
legislator — then bend our melting eyes, and, with 
unutterable gratitude and love, fix them upon 



THE TABLES OF THE LAW. 197 

Jesus the Saviour. Thus law and Gospel meet 
and blend, each contributing to the glory of God, 
and alike promoting the welfare of man. It has 
been well observed, that the true believer faith- 
fully endeavors to obey the law, as the great rule 
of his duty both to God and man ; yet he is so 
sensible of his own manifold defects that he would 
utterly despair, if he could not look up unto 
Jesus, and say, " Thou wilt answer for me, Lord, 
my God!'' 

Jesus, thy blood and righteousness 
My beauty are, my glorious dress. 
Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, 
With joy shall I lift up my head. 
When from the dust of death I rise, 
To take my mansion in the skies. 
Even then shall this be all my plea — 
"Jesus hath lived and died for me.'' 



198 GEMS FROM THE SACRliD MINE. 



BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON. 

BY THE REV. JOHN COLLINS MUGABE. 

By tlieir waters we sat, o'er our sorrows still 

brooding. 
The memory of joy, long departed, intruding; 
Our tear-drops fell freely: we thought of loved 

Zion, 
When Judah went up from the prey like a lion. 

Our wild harps, neglected, above us were swinging ; 
Their chords to the winds in hoarse murmurs were 

ringing; 
Like a wail of despair their sad echoes were given. 
And we felt as abandoned by man and by Heaven ! 

While sadly we gazed on the Euphrates' waters. 
All sandaled and jeweled came Babylon's daugh- 
ters; 



THE RIVERS OF BABYLON. 199 

Their dark eyes were moistened by pitying sad- 
ness — 

But her sons mocked our grief, which was swelling 
to madness. 

" Strike the harp, sing a song!'' said the heathen, 

the stranger. 
We were captives sore-stricken, yet heedless of 

danger ; 
Our souls swelled with pride, as rich visions came 

o'er us, 
And Zion in fancy rose towering before us ! 

" Oh, never," we cried, ^Hill to Zion returning," 

The flame of affection within us still burning, 

" Oh ! never shall harp-strings be swept by our 

fingers. 
Nor a song from our lips when the foeman still 

lingers ! 

"Jerusalem! through our sad tear-drops fast 

falling. 
The memory of all that thou wast still recalling, 
Should our hearts for a moment from love of thee 

sever. 
May these right hands forget all their cunning for 

ever! 



200 GEMS FROM THE SACKED MINE. 

'^If we do not prefer thee, loved Zion, dear 

mother. 
May our fast-cleaving tongues speak no praise of 

another ; 
Ah, vainly they threaten ; we smile upon danger, 
We never will chant Zion's song for the stranger !" 



CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 201 



CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE aARDEN. 



BY THE REY. F. OGILBY. 



^*^The idea of pleasure/' says Bishop Home, 
^^ is inseparable from that of a garden, where man 
still seeks after lost happiness, and where, perhaps, 
a good man finds the nearest resemblance of it 
which this world affords." " What is requisite," 
exclaims Dr. Young, "- to make a wise and a happy 
man, but reflection and peace? And both are the 
natural growth of a garden. A garden to the vir- 
tuous is a Paradise still extant, a Paradise unlost." 
^^A garden," writes Sir William Temple, ^'has 
been the inclination of kings, and the choice of 
philosophers ; the common favorite of public and 
private men ; the pleasure of the greatest, and the 
care of the meanest ; an employment and a posses- 
sion for which no man is too high nor too low. If 
we believe the Scriptures, we must allow that God 
Almighty esteemed the life of man in a garden the 



202 GEMS FEOM THE SACKED MINE. 

happiest he could give him ; or else he would not 
have placed Adam in that of Eden." 

The first garden, whose bloom and beauty 
adorned the earth, was planted by the Creator's 
hand, and designed for man's joyful abode. 
" And the Lord God planted a garden eastward 
in Eden ; and there he put the man whom he had 
formed. And out of the ground made the Lord 
God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the 
sight and good for food." Thus God, in his 
mercy, first made earthly beauty the minister to 
human felicity, and the fragrance from the flowers 
rose, like incense, to heaven, bearing on its light 
wings the grateful praises of God uplifted from 
the hearts of His rejoicing children. God joined 
together, in blissful union, the beauty of earth 
and the happiness of man. It was man who first put 
them asunder ! The sin, which drove guilty man 
from Paradise, turned the sweet emblems of Divine 
love into sad memorials of his doom. Those gen- 
tle monitors, whose silent beauty, once expressed 
the unfailing goodness of a Father, withering 
before the breath of His displeasure, teach a dif- 
ferent lesson. "• As for man, his days are as grass,, 



CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 203 

as a flower of the field so he flourisheth." And, 



under the same blight, a garden which was first 
appointed as the home of man's joy has been the 
scene of the bitterest sorrow ever witnessed upon 
earth. God planted the Garden of Eden, and man 
turned it into the Garden of Gethsemane. In the 
one, the first man, Adam, was placed, surrounded 
by all that could minister to his blessedness ; in 
the other, the second Adam, the Lord from heaven, 
must kneel in agony, and stain the gentle flowers 
with drops of blood, that the curse of sin might 
be removed from a blighted world. The beauty 
which God appointed, as the attendant of man's 
joy, must be the silent witness of the unutterable 
anguish preying upon the soul of " the man of sor- 
rows," in that hour of agony. In a garden 
the sin was committed, the source of all our woes, 
and in a garden the redemption must be wrought, 
the most fearful weight of that agony endured by 
which the bands of death are to be unloosed from 
earth's captive children, even " the bitter pains of 
eternal death." In a garden also must be the 
sepulchre wherein the Lord of life was laid that 
he might become the conqueror of death. " Now, 



204 aEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

in the place where he was crucified there was 
a garden ; and in the garden a new sepulchre, 
wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they 
Jesus." In a garden also must that Redeemer 
first be seen, ^' alive after his passion," when he 
reappeared to the weeping Mary, after he had 
opened to man the gate of Paradise. Thus, if the 
folly of man turned Eden into a place of mourning, 
a Divine Saviour's infinite love has opened fount- 
ains of comfort in the garden of sorrows, and 
replanted, in the garden of the Holy Sepulchre, 
the tree of life. If man found woe in the bowers 
of Eden, he now may discover joy under the solemn 
shadows of Gethsemane. 

Let our chastened, though hopeful, thoughts 
dwell upon that solemn scene presented in the 
picture, ''Christ's Agony in the Garden." We 
behold a kneeling Saviour, a ministering angel, 
and beneath the oUve's gloomy shade the sleep- 
ing disciples. It is a spot to which sinners should 
draw nigh with sober, subdued, earnest feeling. 
'' Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place 
whereon thou standest is holy ground," sanctified 
by a Saviour's agony, consecrated by his bloody 
sweat. 



Christ's agony in the garden. 205 

"Where knelt apart in fervent prayer, 
With none to soothe or comfort there 

With tenderness or sympathy, 
The man of sorrows sore distressed, 
With sins of countless souls oppressed, 

The Saviour in his agony. 

Alone to pass through that dark hour. 
Alone to strive with Satan's power. 

Hard struggling for the victory, 
No kindred spirit o'er him bent. 
Save one the Father kindly sent. 

To strengthen his humanity. 

Oh ! mystery surpassing thought : 
The eternal Son, from heaven brought 

To earth, in deep humility. 
Enduring pangs man ne'er can know. 
Succored by angels in his woe, 

In their mysterious ministry.'^ 

The shadows of evening had fallen around the 
once holy city. Beneath their quieting influences 
the weary multitudes, who had gathered to the 
Paschal feast, had sunk to repose ere they took 
part in that accursed scene of blood which on the 
morrow was to brand their nation with an eternal 
stamp of infamy, and make them and their children 
14 



206 GEMS FROM THE SAGRED MINE. 

outcasts among the nations of the earth. The 
Jewish rulers shared not in this repose. Malice 
and wickedness slept not while their infernal pur- 
poses were accomplishing. They had closed their 
bargain with Judas for his Master's life, and their 
souls thirsted for that sacrifice of blood by which, 
though they knew it not, the sin of a guilty world 
was to be taken away. 

In a secluded chamber of the city, the last sup- 
per had been eaten by the Master and his disci- 
ples. The predictive rite had been changed into 
the commemorative sacrament. The last sacrifi- 
cial blood was soon to flow, the blood of the ever- 
lasting covenant, the life-blood of the Lamb of 
God. God's true altar was no longer to be 
stained with the blood of bulls and of goats, which 
cannot take away sin. One sacrifice was to be 
offered up once for all for the sins of the whole 
world. That efiicacious one needed no repetition. 
It only required commemoration. The simplest 
elements sufficed for its eternal memorial, even 
^' bread and wine which the Lord hath command- 
ed to be received." 

After that most solemn institution, a hymn of 
praise is sung ; and never had the heart of man a 



Christ's agony in the garden. 207 

nobler occasion on which to utter its thanksgivings. 
The Master with his faithful followers seeks the 
shady retirement of the Mount of Olives, in whose 
friendly gloom, deepened by the shadows of the 
night, none but a traitor can discover him. It was 
a fitly chosen time and place for the awful scene. 
The hired traitor was on his way with the armed 
bands to give his Master up into the hands of the 
cruel enemies thirsting for his blood. The suffer- 
ing, the scorn, the shame awaiting him on that 
cruel night, He well knew. And the still more 
sorrowful history of the coming day, his omnis- 
cient Spirit could plainly read. Oppressed with 
the weary burden of these gathering sorrows, and 
feeling the awful weight of that load of guilt which 
He who was '^holy, harmless and undefiled'' bore 
in our stead, and having warned his disciples that 
they should all forsake him in his hour of need, and 
that the boldest among them should thrice deny 
him, the gracious Saviour, "despised and rejected 
of men," betrayed, forsaken, denied by his chosen 
disciples, might well feel the bitterness of the cup 
whose dregs he was soon to taste. The inspired 
narrative thus relates the history, which only the 
Holy Ghost could enable man truly to give : — 



208 GEMS FROM THE SACKED MINE. 

" Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place 
called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples. 
Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder. 

" And he took with him Peter, and the two sons 
of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very 
heavy. 

'' Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceed- 
ing sorrowful, even unto death : tarry ye here, 
and watch with me. 

^^ And he went a little farther, and fell on his 
face and prayed, saying, 0, my Father, if it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me : nevertheless, 
not as I will, but as thou wilt. 

'' And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth 
them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What ! could 
ye not watch with me one hour ? 

^^ Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temp- 
tation : the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh 
is weak. 

^' He went away again the second time, and 
prayed, saying, 0, my Father, if this cup may not 
pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be 
done. 

^' And he came and found them asleep again: 
for their eyes were heavy. 



Christ's agony in the garden. 209 

"And he left them, and went away again, and 
prayed the third time, saying the same words. 

" Then cometh he to his disciples, and saith 
unto them, Sleep on now, and take your rest: 
behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man 
is betrayed into the hands of sinners." 

St. Luke adds the fact, made prominent in our 
picture, "And there appeared an angel unto him 
from heaven, strengthening him." 

The place in which the awful scene, thus 
related, occurred was fitly chosen. It was a 
garden in which the second Adam endured his 
agony ; but oh, how different from that garden 
wherein the first Adam was surrounded, by the 
matchless skill of his Creator with all that could 
contribute to his innocent pleasure ! It was a 
narrow piece of ground, overshadowed by the 
thick foliage of the dark olive trees, retired and 
lonely. It was bounded on one hand by the 
rocky base of Olivet, and on the other side it was 
limited by the blood-stained waters of the brook 
Cedron, by whose channel the blood of the victims, 
offered in sacrifice, was conveyed to the valley of 
Jehoshaphat. This gloomy garden took its name, 



210 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Gethsemane, from the olive-presses in it, fit em- 
blems of the scene witnessed in their midst. It 
was the hour when rest had taken the place of 
busy toil. Within sight of the crowded city, it 
was then a lonely spot. No human eye was near 
to gaze rudely upon that hour of agony. Even 
the chosen witnesses, oppressed with sorrow, were 
wrapped in the unconsciousness of sleep. So 
truly did the prophet foretell the sad voice 
which Messiah was to utter — '' I have trodden the 
wine-press alone; and of the people there was 
none with me." 

The scene thus presented, to be classed among 
the most solemn earth has ever witnessed, calls up 
before the attentive mind, in an impressive form, 
truths of deepest concern to every sinful being. 
Cold and senseless must be the heart which is not 
impressed with their power. Without attempting 
any labored discussion of the many points of inte- 
rest claiming notice ; without any effort to fathom 
the mysteries which God has shrouded in gloom, 
let us, in an awed and reverend spirit, seek to, 
impress upon our minds and hearts a few of the 
plain lessons revealed for our instruction, even 



CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 211 

from the clouds and darkness brooding over the 
garden of Gethsemane. 

In the first place, this scene impresses us more 
deeply with a sense of the reality and extent of 
our adorable Redeemer's sufferings in our behalf. 
We are accustomed to speak of him as "the Man 
of sorrows," and "acquainted with grief." Yet 
how few feel the reality of this amazing truth. 
Our holy religion loses its power over the hearts 
of men, because they fail to realize its wonderful 
truths. If we realized the sufferings of Christ, 
in their depth and fullness, and if we also realized 
the fact that " He was wounded for our trans- 
gressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the 
chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by 
his stripes ^^g are healed," surely "the love of 
Christ" would not have so little constraint upon 
us, we would not count such small sacrifices 
enough to offer in return to Him who endured so 
much for us. Bow down then thoughtless, ithank- 
less man, and contemplate " Christ's Agony in 
the Garden," and in this view discover the reality 
of your Saviour's fearful sufferings, the awful 
weight, the dreadful load heaped upon Him, of 



212 O^EMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

whom it may well be said, " Surely He hath borne 
our griefs and carried our sorrows." This scene, 
no mere picture of imagination, a dread reality, 
shows us that his was no vain oblation, but an 
actual sacrifice, revealing the fearful penalty of 
sin. And oh ! sinful man, as you behold your 
Saviour bowing in agony insupportable, beyond 
nature's endurance, when making himself an 
atonement for sin, think what must be the fate of 
that undying soul upon which falls the fearful 
doom of expiating unrepented sin throughout the 
weary ages of eternity ! If those agonizing mo- 
ments in Gethsemane were so dreadful to bear, 
think what must be the horrors of the dark and 
countless periods of eternal woe ! And, when 
you consider that Christ endured this agony to 
rescue your lost soul from such a doom, what love 
and devotion to this most merciful Saviour should 
fill your heart. And if you realize all this, with 
what confidence may you ofier up that moving 
prayer wrung from the afilicted heart, by a sense 
of its helplessness and distress, and uttered each 
time we meet at the open grave* — '' Of whom 

* Church Burial Service. 



Christ's agony in the garden. 213 

may we seek for succor, but of Thee, Lord, 
who for our sins art justly displeased. Yet, 
Lord God most holy, Lord most mighty, holy 
and most merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the 
bitter pains of eternal death." 

Our blessed Saviour took with him to Geth- 
semane the same disciples who had been with him 
at His transfiguration. They had witnessed the 
glory of his Divinity, they must also behold the 
lowliness of His humanity. Although he did not 
wish to exhibit his private agony, yet still it was 
needful for us that man should behold Him as 
" the man of sorrows.'' Still, we find him retiring 
from the immediate gaze of the three witnesses, 
" Sit ye here while I go and pray yonder." Thus 
does true sorrow for sin ever retire, seeking only 
the all-seeing eye of Him whose mercy it claims. 
So greatly do those err who make a parade of 
their repentance, and display their grief over sin 
to others ! A strange subject for vain glory ! 

There is another lesson impressed by " Christ's 
agony in the garden." It tells us what anguish 
and grief should be excited in us by a sense of sin. 
We can never, it is true, feel this with the acute- 



214 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

ness whicli made its sting so sharp to him. We 
know not, as He knew, the awful character of sin 
in all its dark and terrible bearings. Yet in this, 
as in all else, is He our Exemplar ; and although 
without sin while offering himself a ransom for us 
all, the willing victim to bear the weight of sin. 
He must suffer all this woe. " For he hath made 
him to be sin for us, who knew no sin : that we 
might be made the righteousness of God in him." 
The feeling which oppressed our blessed Saviour in 
Grethsemane must in a degree excite us, if we make 
sincerely that strong confession in our Communion 
service. " We acknowledge and bewail our mani- 
fold sins and wickedness. The remembrance of 
them is grievous unto us ; the burden of them is 
intolerable." 

Again, our blessed Saviour in Gethsemane, 
bearing oui' griefs and carrying our sorrows, is a 
pattern to us who, in this trying world, must all 
expect to bear grief and carry sorrows of our own. 
He exhibits no insensibility to suffering ; on the 
contrary, he displayed the keenest apprehension 
of it. ''My soul is exceeding sorrowful." And 
what was his resort ? Let the inspired history 



CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 215 

answer. ''He went, and prayed.'' He whose 
humanity was strengthened by union with di- 
vinity, in his sorrow prayed; and can man in 
his mortal weakness, when sorrow and grief over- 
whelm his soul, find any other refuge ? Let our 
blessed Lord also teach us the true spirit of prayer. 
He prayed with a perfect resignation to the Divine 
will. '' Oh, my Father, if it be possible, let this 
cup pass from me ; nevertheless, not as I will, but 
as thou wilt." Even so has He taught us, in that 
holy prayer, which he gave both as a form and 
pattern of prayer, to say unto our Father " Thy 
will be done." May we, from so wise a precept, 
so touching an example, catch the blessed spirit 
which prompted them, that we may not only do^ 
but glady suffer^ as He wills. Sorrow and agony 
will then lose their fearful power, and we will be 
armed against all fear and placed beyond the 
reach of every ill. May we not also learn, from 
our Lord's use of prayer in this case, something 
more than its true spirit? In the extremity of 
his agony, we are told, he " went away again, and 
prayed the third time, saying the same words!'' 
If He, our Lord and Master, in that most solemn 



216 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

hour, in his soul's extremity , used a> form of prayer, 
are they not right who, in their practice, follow 
so wise an example, and in their constant need of 
the same mercies, constrained to reiterate the same 
requests to God, pray " saying the same words?" 
How are we struck with the contrast between 
the wakeful agony of the Master and the torpid 
apathy of the disciples. " He cometh unto the 
disciples, and findeth them asleep!" While the 
Lord in his sorrow watches and prays, the Dis- 
ciple seeks refuge in sleep ! Yet even so, that 
gracious Lord finds excuse for their infirmity, 
and says, " The spirit indeed is willing, but 
the flesh is weak." What comfort have we in 
thinking that, with a willing spirit, an earnest 
desire to serve our Saviour, we may hope for a 
gracious acceptance, and that he will mercifully 
excuse the weakness of our flesh ! Yet how strong 
seems that expostulation, from him who was en- 
during all this grief on their account — " What, 
could ye not watch with me one hour?" How 
many disciples of Christ expose themselves to the 
force of that rebuke, so powerful in its very gen- 
tleness ! 



CHRIST'S AGONY IN THE GARDEN. 217 

As the cloud of sorrows gathered thicker around 
him, we find our Saviour again resorting to prayer, 
yet still the prayer of a resigned and submissive 
spirit. " Oh, my Father, if this cup may not pass 
away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.'' 
Though the trial must be borne, that merciful 
Father answers the prayer by sending help from 
on high. "And there appeared an angel from 
heaven strengthening him." So God deals with 
all his faithful ones. The cup of sorrow may not 
pass from them, but blessed ministers of strength 
and comfort He sends, in an answer to their 
prayers, and the soul finds refreshment even in 
the waters of affliction. 

Dear reader, if your pilgrimage in life should 
lead you to Marah's bitter waters, may the leaf 
which we have plucked together, from the olives 
of Gethsemane, help to make those waters sweet. 
"Looking unto Jesus" in his agony, we should 
learn lessons of patience, of resignation, and of 
hope. Earth with all its bloom and beauty is now 
to man, more like to the Garden of Gethsemane 
than to the Garden of Eden. Yet all who bear 
their lot in the spirit which that blessed Saviour 



218 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

here exhibits, shall be partakers of the joy which 
followed his agony. With him they shall pass 
from Gethsemane to the true Eden, where grows 
the tree of life eternal, the blessed Paradise from 
which man shall never fall, wherein ^Hhe wicked 
shall cease from troubling, and the weary shall be 
at rest.'' 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 219 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 

BY THE REV. C. M. BUTLER, D. D. 

This festival has been observed with lively 
interest and joy by the great body of the Christ- 
ian world, from the earliest times of the Church 
of Christ. The precise day upon which the 
Saviour was born is not agreed upon by the 
learned ; neither is it material to know. 

It is enough to know that Jesus lived, grew, 
and died as other men. Those who saw him in 
the days of his sojourn upon earth, beheld him 
as the glory of the Father, full of grace and 
truth. It is proper that a day should be set 
apart for celebrating, with gratitude and devo- 
tion, so blessed an event as the Saviour's nativity. 

Connected with this glorious festival is the cus- 
tom of decorating our churches with boughs of 
evergreens. This practice is in conformity to 
the customs of many nations, and has prevailed 



220 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

for ages in the Christian Church, as an appro- 
priate emblem of that everlasting freshness which 
is to accompany the immortal joy and youth of 
Heaven. 

On Bethlehem's plain deeply hushed is the night, 
And the stars in their stillness are shining ; 

And, watching their flocks by the dubious light, 
The shepherds in peace are reclining. 

No heave of the earth, no flash of the sky, 
Proclaim it an hour of such wonder ; 

No tokens are seen that Messiah is nigh ; 
No voices, nor lightning, nor thunder ! 

But, look ! on the Heaven a glory appears. 

Its lustre to everything lending ; 
And o'er them they see, with tremulous fears. 

The wings of an angel descending. 

But mild was his look as the light of his wing. 
And kind were the words by him spoken; 

And '^Fear not," he said, ^^glad tidings I bring. 
Confirmed by a marvelous token." 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 221 

"- Messiah, your Lord and your Saviour, is born 
In the city of David — go greet him : 

Wrapped in his swaddling clothes, lowly and lorn, 
A babe in a manger, you'll meet him!" 

Bright was the light that then flashed o'er the sky, 
As thousands of angels descended ; 

And sweet was the anthem that rose up on high, 
As their voices in melody blended. 

That anthem shall yet through the universe ring ; 

'Twill be chanted forever in Heaven; 
^' Grlory to God in the highest," they sing^ — 

^^ Peace and good will to mortals be given!" 



15 



222 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 



WORLD, ADIEU, 

BY THE REV. J. COBLIN, A. M. 

World, adieu ! I see thee flying. 

Fast as vapors on the wind, 
All thy consolations dying. 
Leaving not a wreck behind. 
Fools may love thee. 
But above thee, 
I would bliss substantial find. 

If thou now so oft deceive me, 

When I may detect the cheat, 
Thou wouldst of all hopes bereave me, 
When on life's last verge we meet; 
Never, never, 
False deceiver. 
Would I more thy smilings greet. 



223 



There's a world where all is pleasure, 
Which Time's changes ne'er decay ! 
There are blessings without measure, 
Pure as light, and glad as day ! 
That desiring, 
Thus aspiring, 
I would "breathe mj life away. 



224 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE, 



THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. 

BY THE RIGHT REV. G. W. DOANE, BISHOP OF NEW JERSEY, 
'' Out of Egypt have I called my son." 

Maiden Mother^ meek and mild. 
Cherishing that cherub child. 
Why, through wild and weary way. 
Should thy feeble footsteps stray ? 

Herod seeks the loved one's life ; 
Glitters now the murderer's knife ; 
Ramah reeking lies and red ; 
Rachel weeps her children dead. 

Maiden mother, meek and mild. 
Fear not for that cherub child : 
Through the Avild and weary way, 
Angel squadrons with thee stray. 




^ 






3rrJfM^v. IT. Yar. D. 



THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. 225 

Hear what God the Lord hath done : 
" Out of Egypt" called his son ; 
Nailed him to the atoning tree ; 
Given him there the victory. 



226 GEMS FEOM THE SACRED MINE* 



ELIJAH AND HIS ANGEL VISITANT. 

BY THE REV. EDWARD C. JONES, A. M. 

The exercise of faith is ofteiij in the case of 
the believer, succeeded by a timid despondency, 
and the firmest moral prowess superseded by 
puerile inaction. The Tishbite prophet is an apt 
illustration* Girt about with Truth's ethereal 
panoply, he had administered a withering repri- 
mand to erring royalty itself^ proved the utter 
worthlessness of pagan idolatry, by a test at 
once unique and convincing, and hastened the 
destruction of the wily priests of Baal; when 
hearing the threat of a wicked woman that his 
life should pay the forfeit of his daring, he timor- 
ously shrinks from impending danger, isolates 
himself from society, neglects for a time his in- 
cumbent obligations as a witness to the truth. 



ELIJAH AND HIS ANGEL VISITANT. 227 

and, secretly withdrawing to a sequestered spot, 
petulantly solicits the Almighty to take away his 
life. Is this the man who denounced as a 
"troubler of Israel" the imperious Ahab, and 
braved with lion heart the machinations of a 
pagan hierarchy ? Does he quail at the ire of a 
haughty Jezebel, as though no Almighty arm still 
^'compassed him with favor as with a shield?" 
Has Elijah forgotten the existence of Elijah's 
God? ^^How is the gold become dim, and the 
fine gold changed." So rapid is the transition 
from a faith which could remove mountains to a 
distrust at once puerile and wicked, that, did not 
the oracles of God contain the narrative of his 
defection, we should almost question its correct- 
ness. Let us look at the wayward seer as he re- 
clines beneath the juniper-tree, whose refreshing 
shelter would woo him to a calm and deep repose. 
Sleep weighs down his eyelids, and he dreams. 
His visions take the tinge of his checkered and 
eventful history. Again he is in his mountain 
home, absorbed in meditation, or issuing, in his 
Master's potent name, the stern command which 
bottles up for revolving months the rains and 



228 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

dews of heaven ; or fed by ravens at the murmur- 
ing brooklet, whose gentle ripple has music all its 
own, or surrounded on Carmers wooded height 
hf the gathered throng of pagan devotees, to 
whom he is proclaiming with resistless pathos, the 
living God ; when suddenly he is touched by a 
gentle hand, and his reverie is broken. ^"^ Behold 
then an angel touched him." What a powerful 
reproof in that angelic touch. He had distrusted 
the guardianship of his covenant Creator, and 
here, in the wilderness, at a moment when least 
anticipated, he is furnished with evidence at once 
the most unmistakable and affecting, that God is 
holding up his goings, superintending his slightest 
movement, and throwing around his shrinking 
spirit an impenetrable bulwark of defence. 
''Arise and eat," said the angelic visitant. But 
can God provide a table in the wilderness ? Yes ; 
he did it for the rebellious Israelites, and renewed 
the demonstration of his providential oversight 
and thrice paternal love in the case of the way- 
ward Tishbite prophet. What lights and shadows 
on the moral canvas — the distrustfulness and 
petulance of man, the long-suffering and care of 



ELIJAH AND HIS ANGEL VISITANT. 229 

a benignant Deity ! "And he looked, and behold 
there was a cake, baken on the coals, and a cruse 
of water at his head ; and he did eat and drink, 
and laid him down again." The provision for the 
pilgrim was simple, but it was refreshing. It far 
exceeded both his expectation and deserts. But 
mark, it was a meal provided by God himself, 
expressly for a creature of his hand, and a meal 
graced by the shining presence and sweetened by 
the encouraging smile of a seraphic minister. 
What kingly banquet was ever so honored ? That 
frugal repast in the wilderness eclipses far the 
most sumptuous entertainment of Roman emperor 
or Eastern prince. And is not the Christian 
pilgrim in the wilderness of probation still pro- 
vided with food convenient for him— that spiritual 
nutriment of truth which invigorates the inner 
man ? And when, Elijah-like, we slumber at the 
post of duty, does not God dispatch his messen- 
gers to rouse us from our sinful reverie, stimulate 
afresh our sluggish energies, and point us to our 
native heaven? Sickness, bereavement, the 
vicissitudes of fortune, what are these but angel 
visitants, who touch us when we sink into compa- 



230 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

rative inaction, and are barren and unfruitful in 
the work of the Lord? And if they do incite us 
to cherish better thoughts and consummate loftier 
purposes, then may we hail the messenger, though 
his touch be rough, and bless the dispensation, 
however trying, which roused us from the double 
lethargy of sense and sin, and sent us on in our 
pilgrim path, with an eye more single to the glory 
of our Master, and a heart more detached from 
the fascinating allurements of earth. The narra- 
tive informs us that twice did Elijah slumber, and 
twice was he awakened by the touch of the 
angelic visitant to partake of the frugal repast * 
which God had himself miraculously furnished. 
Contemplating the Tishbite seer as a type of the 
Christian wayfarer, we are hereby taught the im- 
pressive lesson, that notwithstanding the calls of 
Providence, we are prone to relapse into our pris- 
tine state of carnal security, and stand in need of 
more powerful incentives to diligence and zeal and 
love. We are also taught the further lesson, that 
as Elijah betook himself a second time to his 
simple meal, so the Christian pilgrim, to grow in 
grace, must feed continually upon the word of 



ELIJAH AND HIS ANGEL VISITANT. 231 

triithj and have recourse again and again to those 
living waters of salvation, which have ever minis- 
tered, and will ever minister refreshment and 
strength and hope to the panting spirit. The 
meat thus furnished the prophet sustained him 
for a protracted interval. He went in the 
strength of that meat, forty days and forty 
nights, unto Horeb, the mount of God. Equally 
efficacious are the provisions of the grace of God 
for those who both hunger and thirst for heavenly 
nutriment. Brought to the banqueting-house of 
the Gospel, we are nourished up into everlasting 
life ; from babes in Christ, we go on in progres- 
sive growth to the measure of the stature of the 
fullness of God, till, with expanded powers 
and mighty faith and patient heart, we have filled 
up the measure of suffering and obedience, and 
pass from the wilderness of probation, not to 
Mount Horeb, as did Elijah, but to Mount Zion, 
the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusa- 
lem, not to go out again^ as did Elijah, to face a 
frowning world in the discharge of duty, but to 
become pillars, stable pillars, in the temple of our 
God; inheritors, everlasting inheritors of the 



232 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

purchased possession, and kings and priests to our 
Lord and Master, who bought us with his blood. 

Such be the blissful heritage of every reader ; 
such the termination of our individual history, 
glory, honor, immortality. 



THE SEPULCHRE. 233 



THE SEPULCHRE. 

BY ANSON G. CHESTER, A. B. 

The night was like a Sabbath. On the earth 
Lay glistening dew-drops ; like the loving tears 
A mother weeps above her slumbering child. 
A soft strange accent was within the wind 
That touched the heart with sadness, and the sky, 
With moon and starlight, seemed a silver sea. 

Like eager "merchantmen that seek for pearls," 
I, by a careless loitering, sought to gain 
A respite from the sorrows of an hour, 
Which care had folded 'neath its gloomy wing. 

A Sepulchre arose before my view. 
As musingly I journeyed — and my heart 
Welcomed its deep solemnities, for then 
Its thoughts were also solemn, and it found 



234 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Congenial attributes in that grim sepulchre. 
Let me describe it, adding some chance thoughts. 
Which skimmed my mind as swallows skim the 
waves. 

Set in a gentle slope, its simple roof 
Was the green velvet cunning Nature weaves. 
Columns of unstained marble stood before, 
To bear the sober burden of the whole. 
Which minded me of Atlas and his load. 
On these the lapidary's skillful hand 
Had fashioned quaint devices — striking types^ 
Which but a glance would render to the heart. 
Between, a massive iron door, on which 
A marble shield was set, that told the world 
Who slept within the dark and lonely vault — 
Illustrious names, which a remembering world 
Had long since canonized, and often blessed : 
And o'er the whole the mournful willow hung 
Bowed like a mourner, and the cypress tree, 
With sad appearance, stood approximate. 

Impulse her subtle arguments employed 
To make me enter, and my sombre thoughts 
Longed for its hid solemnities ; and thus 



THE SEPULCHRE. 235 

I listened to the logic, and obeyed. 
And, with an arm that resolution nerved, 
I tried the door, which suddenly gave way 
As though I snapped its sinews ; and I stood 
Within the vault alone, except with thought, 
And these undreaming sleepers ! 

Need I tell 
What solemn pictures rose before my view ? 
The wasting coffins, with their wasting forms — • 
The noise of worms, that held a banqueting 
Upon the flesh which once was warm with life — ■ 
The awful stillness, such as death creates 
Within its habitations — and the thoughts 
Which sank like lead upon the shrinking mind ! 
Ye will not wonder, that with hasty step 
I left the charnel-house and sought the air. 
Stirred by the lazy wings of ebon night. 
To give refreshment to my sickened breast. 

But there are lessons in the things we hate 
Which change them oft to blessings. I have 

known 
A poor deformity, in younger days. 
On whose disgusting features none could look 



236 GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINE. 

Save with a deep abhorrence. Like a fiend. 
His eyes would glare, and seem to pierce the soul 
Of all who chanced to cross his dreaded path — 
Mere semblance of a man, and greatly terrible. 
And yet if once his burning thoughts burst forth 
From lips that never maiden's wished to press. 
You would be spell-bound with their eloquence. 
For they were God's own accents, though they 

came 
Through such a strange and loathsome medium. 
Therefore, 'tis well, betimes, to dwell upon 
The things that we, perchance, do most abhor. 

So, from that dark and hateful sepulchre, 
I gathered precepts precious as my life ; 
And they who read this honest verse aright 
Shall feel their power and bless their influence. 



THE END. 



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